Heartless
by Laerkstrein
Summary: When Captain Unohana's time of leave coincides with that of another captain, she takes it upon herself to teach him what it means to relax. But when things take a turn for the worst, she realizes that not everything will go as planned. Post-Winter War.
1. Breathe

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Heartless**

**Chapter 1: **Breathe

**A/N: **I had no intention of uploading this until I finished with _Vindictive, _but all that has changed since I need another project to "stress over." I promised more KuroHana to several people, so here you all go. Enjoy it to the fullest, as I've worked for several weeks on just this first chapter. After much deliberation and searching, I have decided that the theme for this fic will be "This Night" by Black Lab. Also, this story takes place after Aizen's defeat, and after Ichigo looses his Soul Reaper powers.

I sincerely hope that the fruits of my labors will do all the characters justice.

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><p>They had all anticipated, and dreaded, that the day of inevitable farewell. Yet, no one had expected such a simple thing to be so mournful. The mass of Soul Reapers who had been in contact with the Ryoka boy had easily gone back to their usual duties, choosing to put the past behind them as they went. Rukia Kuchiki, however, had been unable to do such a thing. She had returned to the Soul Society in tatters, so to speak, having promptly fled from the Senkaimon the instant it had opened.<p>

Perhaps Rukia's inner turmoil was none of the captain's concern, but her kind heart insisted that she go and try to make the girl feel more at ease.

After having met Byakuya at the gate to the Kuchiki Mansion, she had been granted access to the grounds to search for the sorrowful child. The search had, quite simply, been far less challenging than Retsu had initially anticipated, as Rukia had been found beside Lady Hisana's memorial stone out in the garden.

"Sister... First, I lost you," Retsu heard her whisper, her hand gently stroking the characters engraved upon the stone. "And now... I've lost _him_, too."

The gentle captain had the urge to touch Rukia's shoulder, to offer words of comfort, and yet, it just didn't seem right to interrupt. She felt almost guilty having overheard so personal a thing, which she was sure that the mourning girl wouldn't take in stride. With a quiet sigh, she turned on her heel, deciding instead to return her attention to her own tasks. Namely, caring for the wounded, and delivering medication and herbal soups to Captain Ukitake at his Ugendo quarters.

"Did she speak to you, by any chance?"

As the voice and a gentle hand reached her, Retsu turned to find Byakuya standing behind her, his gaze cast towards the sobbing girl who sat among the budding lilacs. When he turned to face her, Retsu silently noted that his eyes were as clouded over as the sun on that cold day, filled to the brim with worry. A soft smile of reassurance graced her features as she shook her head.

"She didn't even know I had come," she replied quietly. "It is my advice, Captain, that you allow her some time to grieve before approaching her with such a tender subject. It seems that she cared deeply for this Ichigo Kurosaki, and now, having lost him, she is in pain." Retsu smiled once again as a dark look overcame Byakuya's face. "She will come to you when she is ready."

Truly, Retsu felt confident in having offered such words to Byakuya, but a part of her was unsure. There was always the chance that Rukia would keep her feelings to herself, which would, undoubtedly, stress her even more. As she headed off to her own Division, Retsu quietly shook such doubt from her mind. Doubting herself simply would not do. She had offered sincere words of truth and belief that she could not take back now.

As she walked briskly down the streets of the Seireitei, the sound of stomping feet and rolling wheels reached her. Retsu turned, with a start, a laughing Yachiru Kusajishi zoomed past her with a bright pink cloud of dust trailing behind, what appeared to be, a scooter. Almost as swiftly as the tiny lieutenant had passed, Ikkaku Madarame shot down the street after her, shouting curses and threats as he chased her down for his zanpakuto.

Although she didn't approve of such vulgar talk, Retsu couldn't help but smile at the fact that Yachiru was playing "keep away" with such important items.

The walk back to the Fourth had been quite a pleasant one, even if the sun was shut away by a clump of rain-filled clouds. To her surprise, she had been able to enter the Division with minimal distractions, as she had only been approached by her lieutenant, who had given her a list of medications for the patients. Upon thanking Isane, she hurried through the hallways to her office wherein she kept Captain Ukitake's various pills and herbal teas.

Upon filling a basket with her delivery, the captain marched promptly out the doors, making a beeline for her fellow captain's quarters, as she was already running ten minutes late. It was a habit and a priority, each week, to make the delivery by noon. As she glanced across the lake to the Ugendo, she failed to notice the man standing in her path until she slammed into him, losing her grip on the basket.

She watched as the basket, and its precious contents, hit the ground with a hard thud as her own descent was halted by a strong grip having wrapped itself around her waist. Retsu glanced up with a smile as the smiling man guided her back to her feet. It wasn't unlike him to be wandering about at this time of day. And, by the look on his face, it was a fairly safe assumption to say that he had been waiting for her.

"You'd best be careful," he chided with a grin. "You never know who you might run into on these streets."

Retsu smiled, gingerly taking him by the arm as he retrieved the basket. "So I've heard," she laughed lightly, guiding him back across the bridge to the Ugendo.

With laughter echoing between them, the two captains entered the quarters, seating themselves upon the cushions that had been set in front of a small table for them. Retsu watched as Captain Ukitake unpacked the basket, shoving the various herbs and pills into the cabinets before setting a cup of tea and a small bowl of red bean soup before her. The captain smiled gently as she watched the steam rise from the dishes. Although he knew better than to prepare meals before her visits, she had learned that Jushiro's offers were not to be refused.

"How is Kuchiki?" Jushiro quipped, raising his own glass to his lips. "I imagine she must be heartbroken over losing contact with Ichigo Kurosaki like this... Though I can't say I didn't see it coming."

Retsu nodded, images of Rukia's shuddering form flashing before her eyes. "I meant to visit with her today," she whispered, staring blankly into the steaming broth, "but it just didn't seem right to interrupt her at such a time."

Jushiro nodded, his white hair falling over his left shoulder. "Of course. She's suffered a great loss. I can see why you hesitated to speak with her." His head turned, eyes staring out at the cherry blossom trees that hung in an arch over the window. "Rukia is... far more gentle and fragile than anyone will admit. In fact," Jushiro turned, his eyes cast to the floor, "I often wonder if anyone, besides myself and Byakuya, notices such a thing."

Such sorrowful, yet strong, words could only have been spoken by a man of Jushiro's caliber. A man who, unlike most of the world, took an interest in each of his subordinates. For him to even think of ignoring them, as so many captains did, would be like sanding against the grain of a fine wood. It was simply unnatural.

"I believe... Rukia will be just fine. She just needs some room to breathe."

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><p>This was going to be up about two weeks ago, but everything else caught up with me, and fanfiction wouldn't let me post anything. (And to <strong>St. Harridan<strong>, you are a nag. You're amazing, though.)


	2. Surrender

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 2: **Surrender

**A/N: **If fanfiction doesn't have anymore errors, then updates should proceed at a regular pace.

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><p>There was no need to ascertain as to why she was busily rummaging through the cabinets. It was a common thing these days, what with such promising subjects dying in agony while they awaited treatment within the Fourth Division. It wasn't at all distracting to know that she was there. He'd never paid her much mind in the first place, let alone dare to strike up a conversation. Such things were petty and irrelevant to his interests.<p>

"Have you ever considered taking a vacation, Captain?"

His eyes visibly widened at the question, staring in awe as she dropped a small stack of papers before him. Instantly, his previous thoughts vanished. The words that stared up at him meant nothing. There was no such thing as a vacation, let alone the poorly disguised phrase that had been used to hide such a thing. Once the schedule had been set out, it was final. There were no gaps, and certainly no time in which one could indulge in stupid frivolities. Everything had been laid out as he had planned, and no damned order for a "time of leave" would change that.

The papers were easily pushed aside, falling to the floor in a heap. An answer may have been in order, but he was not at all inclined to indulge the woman. The best course of action would be to ignore the question, and proceed as if the horrid subject hadn't been brought up.

If only she'd give up that easily.

Instead, she began pointing out all the "good qualities" of taking a vacation, one of which happened to include mental and physical health. With his back still to her, Mayuri sighed and covered his eyes. He would kill whatever idiot had handed off the vacation papers to Unohana.

"Don't you see?" she quipped, popping into his peripheral vision. "Everyone needs a break once in a while. It's what keeps us all sane."

Mayuri grimaced, fighting off the laughter that threatened to expose the stupidity of her words. Strangely enough, he didn't recall ever having anything even closely related to sanity. Of course, he wouldn't tell her that. At all costs, he had to avoid being dragged off on some ghastly adventure, forced to take a "mental health day" or whatever the hell it was called these days. His idea of mental health was keeping oneself busy with the matters at hand.

Not that she would understand that...

"That's actually not a bad idea," Akon muttered from the door. "We can take care of everything here."

Before Mayuri could so much as protest, Unohana had sealed the deal with that irritating smile of hers. "If I remember correctly, didn't you mention how much you'd enjoy researching the humans to Captain Kuchiki?"

Glowering bitterly at her, Mayuri waved her away with a hand, as he was far less interested in starting a pointless argument. Especially when his own words were being used against him. Nonetheless, he was sure that he'd regret this later on.

"In that case, I'll inform the Commander immediately."

Hell was surely on its way, and he was powerless to stop it.

**# - # - #**

He was lost, troubled, and alone. Even with her feelings for him being what they were, she couldn't so much as bring herself to help him. Talking about the matters at hand would surely upset him, as he was unable to participate as he had before. She had seen the way he watched his sister and friends. His eyes burned with cold fury, and a desire to take things into his own hands as he had done so many times.

In this world, with all of its joys and many colors, it seemed that he had faded, losing the flame that had once been alight within his strong heart. To make matters worse, it seemed that Rukia's disappearance had dealt him the worst blow.

She had seen the sorrow in his being as Rukia had left, fading away before his very eyes. He had been crushed, and had simply kept his feelings locked behind a steel door, unwilling to release them. That was why she couldn't tell him. She had been interested in him from the day of their first meeting, but she knew that they could never be anything more than what they were. It was clear to her that he had feelings for their dear friend.

It would be shameful for her to pressure him now.

"Ichigo?" Orihime tapped him lightly on the shoulder as the soccer ball flew down the field. "Are you all right?"

It was a stupid question, really. There he was, on the bench during the practice game, and still he couldn't get his head out of the clouds. He had practically surrendered his life to old memories, and he still had that same look in his eye that he'd had the day Rukia, and his powers, disappeared.

In response to her question, he nodded slightly, eyes still set far off in the distance. "Just a little tired is all... I'm fine..."

Orihime nodded in turn, turning her head away. It was hard for her to see him this way, day after day. He would go to work after school, failing to acknowledge friends and classmates as they saw him off or invited him to parties, games, or sporting events. Aside from going to work and soccer practice, it seemed that Ichigo just went straight home from school. As much as it worried her, it was really the best thing for him. If he were to hang around with herself, Chad, and Uryu after school, there was no telling when a Hollow would show up. If that were to happen... They'd have to leave him behind.

She stood, glancing at her watch and climbing quietly over the bench. Her babysitting appointment would start in fifteen minutes, and she couldn't be a minute late. As she walked quietly away, she turned back to see Ichigo hunched over and trembling, head in his hands.

At times like this, it really was best to just let him be.

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><p>I've been working on this during my spare time this week, and I'm pleased with the outcome. There may very well be another chapter sometime this weekend.<p> 


	3. Misery Business

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 3:** Misery Business

**A/N: **This was probably my favorite chapter to write up thus far. I'm not sure about everyone else, but I find myself to be horribly witty.

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><p>It was all a blur, really. From what he remembered, which wasn't much as it had all happened so fast, he had made it perfectly clear that he wanted <em>nothing <em>to do with Unohana and her talk of vacation plans. And yet, she'd turned his own words against him, easily conning him into such a ridiculous farce. With her mastery over words, perhaps she'd be able to explain how in the hell he'd ended up in Karakura in a gigai at a local high school.

Not to mention the stupid dress code and the tie that was choking the hell out of him...

As if things hadn't been horrid enough what with being scammed, upon their arrival the previous morning, Unohana had dragged him off to numerous shops, shoving her stupid lessons on "how to blend in with the humans" down his throat. Some of the things he'd seen would take some serious work to remove. Teenagers in their skimpy outfits, hanging all over each other. It was simply disgusting. He'd much rather study humans with much more... dignity.

But now, he felt utterly exposed, far out of his comfort zone, staring bitterly into a multitude of wide-eyed, snot-nosed teenagers. Delinquents, the lot of them, and they strongly reminded him of the division of baboons who, when drunk, thoroughly enjoyed parading their naked hides down the streets of the Seireitei. With what he'd already seen of human behavior, the punks he was trapped with were probably hours from similar behaviors.

He didn't even give the woman in charge of the little beasts time for an introduction before stepping out into the hall. It didn't take the help of an instructor for one to present oneself. As if he wanted to. The brats would be far better off staying out of his way, as they might get caught up in the likely loss of a certain captain's life. If this was really a mental health day, then he'd much rather down a jug of sake with that barbarian, Zaraki. This damned school made the Eleventh Division look like paradise...

"You should really come back to class. It's almost time for... Hey, haven't I seen you before?"

Mayuri flinched, inching away from the wide-eyed girl who had easily invaded his space. "I highly doubt that..."

She was rather plain, really. Short hair, brown eyes, and a gray skirt that didn't cover nearly what it should have. As she moved closer, staring suspiciously, Mayuri pushed her back with a hand, ignoring her scowl. In the few minutes he'd been trapped within this insane asylum, he'd gathered two important facts. Fact one: Human teenagers clearly had no idea what "personal space" meant. Fact two: Human females are irritating.

"Are you some kind of masochist?" the girl asked, staring at the scars that lined his arms. "You might want to see a counselor about that."

His first thought was to kick her ass, as Zaraki bluntly would have said, but the idea appealed less and less as the seconds dragged by. There would be no problem in dealing with "authority figures" if he had decided to hit her, as they had no power over him whatsoever. The alternative, however, was far better: Screw with her head. Torture was by far his specialty, and the human mind was barely on par with that of Hollows.

"You're an _idiot_, and it's none of your damn business."

**# - # - #**

He'd never taken much of an interest in the new additions to the class, namely Shinji, but the current situation was far from being ordinary. They'd looked familiar, but once Ms. Ochi had given the class their names, his eyes had very nearly popped out of his head. Why two officers of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads were presently in his class was a mystery. By way of old habits, Ichigo's initial reaction to the news was to stare out the window, searching the school grounds for Hollows.

As usual, there was nothing out of the ordinary, save for a couple of first years smoking cigarettes behind the bleachers on the opposite side of the track. With a sigh, he'd turned his attention back to his notebook, continuing to crank out random doodles that reminded him of Rukia's. As if being unable to see her wasn't bad enough...

Glancing up, he noticed that one of the two, a young woman whom he was sure was Captain Unohana, had taken a seat in front of him, smiling gently before turning her attention to the front of the room. The other, a clearly irritated and dark character whom he assumed to be Captain Kurotsuchi (despite the absence of the ghoulish face paint), stalked to the back of the room before yanking some Physics text from his bag.

As the hour passed without a hitch, Ichigo swiftly caught onto the fact the dark captain was staring at Orihime every now and again. They'd only met a couple times before, but news had reached him that the captain was anything but pleasant. A sadist, some said, willing to go to any lengths to procure specimens for his deranged research. His staring, and the smirk that surfaced now and again, made Ichigo wonder if Orihime had run into him before, and waited with bated breath for the class period to end so he could ask her.

"Ichigo," Orihime whispered, leaning over his desk. "Do you have any idea who they are?"

He nodded, keeping his mouth shut until he could be sure that no one else would hear. But even with everyone gone, the mere thought of talking about the Soul Society was enough to boil his blood. It was horrid being trapped on this side of the plane, useless, powerless, alone. If he'd never met Rukia, if he'd never become a Soul Reaper and traveled to the other side, being left out of the loop probably wouldn't have bothered him so much.

In this case, knowing what he was missing was far worse than not knowing. And it made him miserable.

"Dear God," Mayuri drawled from the door. "It's hardly a wonder you humans are so mundane, what with such primitive education."

Ichigo flinched as Orihime turned, eyes wide. Clearly, something about the captain had triggered some kind of reflex or memory. An unpleasant one at that. He stood, taking Orihime by the hand as he led her to the door, pushing past the smirking bastard. Had he so much as said another word, Ichigo would have gladly slugged him, captain or not. Besides, on this side, he had no power while in a gigai.

He looked back, pleased to find that Captain Unohana was berating him about frightening innocent schoolgirls. With that, Ichigo led Orihime outside and around the side of the building where they could be sure to get some privacy. Her hand suddenly fell from his, her arms hugging her body as she trembled, leaning against the wall with wide eyes. It made no sense. The comment had been harmless, but it was certain that something had Orihime petrified.

"They came from the Soul Society," she whispered, staring into his eyes. "Didn't they?"

Ichigo nodded, glancing around the corner to ensure that there were no eavesdroppers. "Yeah. How did you know?"

She shrugged, her shivers having died down to small tremors in her hands. "Just a feeling, really. She just looks so familiar. I'm sure I saw her in the Soul Society... when you first fought Aizen. She was healing the wounded..." Her eyes darted back up to meet his, worry overcoming her usually calm face. "Why are they here...?"

"I don't know," he replied, clenching his teeth. "But I'm gonna find out."

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><p>For the record, the unnamed girl was Tatsuki. And Kurotsuchi without the paint... Hell yes.<p> 


	4. Questions

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 4:** Questions

**A/N: **This is really progressing faster than I had anticipated, as the ideas just keep coming. Could it be because this is a new project...?

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><p>When Ichigo had proposed that she come with him to speak to Captain Unohana, her heart had nearly stopped. It wasn't so much Captain Unohana as it was the man who had accompanied her. Frankly, Orihime wanted very much to keep her distance from him. She hadn't recognized him when he'd arrived, but hearing his name was enough to pull the trigger. They'd met once, when she and her friends had invaded the Soul Society to rescue Rukia, and it hadn't been a time that she ranked highly on her list of pleasant introductions.<p>

It had been the polar opposite.

In fact, that moment had been one of the most frightening things she had experienced to date. Excluding, of course, her brother's ghastly transformation into a Hollow. She had made it clear to Ichigo that she was quite content with waiting for him on the bleachers, but he'd convinced her otherwise with promises of protecting her. For his sake, she had agreed, not daring to remind him of his absent powers. It would be cruel to do so.

Now that the school day had ended, she was standing behind him, clutching her books to her chest. The last thing she wanted was another encounter with such an unpleasant character, but she had consented for Ichigo. If anyone else had asked her, she would have refused and gone straight home.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" she heard him say. "Is there some kind of problem?"

Orihime peeked around Ichigo to glance mutely at the smiling woman. They'd only met briefly, but there was something genuine about her. But all peace was instantly shattered as she caught sight of those brooding eyes, staring blankly at her. She dropped her books, choosing to cling to Ichigo's soccer jersey, as it was far more comforting than a stack of books.

"We're on vacation," Unohana replied. "We thought it might be fun to see how your people live."

"_You _thought it would be fun," Orihime heard the dark captain mutter. "I don't give a damn about this place..."

Orihime peaked around Ichigo once again, a small smile lighting up her face as Unohana turned to give her companion a dirty look. Ichigo, on the other hand, stared at the woman inquisitively, opening and closing his mouth several times before speaking.

"Does that mean," he said, pointing at the two, "that you're..." He paused, clearly fighting back a laugh that kept him from finishing his question. Finally, it came out. "_Together_...?"

Orihime let out a laugh, quickly covering her mouth. The mere thought of Unohana ending up with someone so... cruel was far beyond her comprehension. As unlikely as it was, the idea alone was enough to send her to the ground, rolling around with laughter. The only things that stopped her were Unohana's wide eyes, and the incriminating glare from over her shoulder. She shrunk back, clutching Ichigo's uniform even tighter.

If that crazy captain got to her, she was dead.

"Oh, no," Unohana replied with a light laugh. "It's not like that at all. Our vacations just happened to fall within the same two-week period. But," she leaned forward, speaking only in a whisper, "it's best to maintain a believable facade, so, if anyone asks... we are."

**# - # - #**

"Aside from your reprehensible behavior earlier," Retsu said, referencing Mayuri's outburst that morning, "I feel that today went quite well. The History portion was especially enlightening."

She'd gotten a lot of the History class, as it had given her some insight into some of the most prominent events in the human world. Mayuri, on the other hand, who trudged irritably behind her, couldn't have been more pissed off if he had wanted to be. Unfortunately, he wasn't taking this nearly as well as she would have hoped, as she had assumed that he would enjoy researching the behavioral patterns of the humans, as well as their... remains.

Perhaps her assumption had been incorrect...

"If, by 'enlightening,' you mean that it was a load of useless dribble, then yes," Mayuri hissed as he stared bitterly at her. "I still can't believe you sucked me into this..."

Retsu smiled, having found his resistance to be quite the riot. Of course, if she told him that, he'd probably go and do something far more drastic to irritate her, such as kidnapping and experimenting on the students or teachers. She very well couldn't have that on her conscience, let alone the blood on his hands. It was sincerely amazing how high-strung he was over something so simple as a two-week vacation. Only a day and a half had passed, and he was already desperate to return to the basements of his division.

The man had a serious addiction to work.

She glanced back, noting that he was lagging several feet behind, fiddling with a Soul Pager or whatever device he'd yanked from his pocket. She was grateful that he hadn't heard her last words to Ichigo Kurosaki in regards to their ruse. If he had, there would have been a rather obvious problem for her to cope with. Instead, he seemed rather bored with everything around him, having chosen to focus on texts during classes that were impossible for high school students to comprehend.

"Here," she said, staring up at the apartment complex before her. "We're upstairs."

When met with silence, Retsu turned around, fighting the urge to laugh at the incredulous look on Mayuri's face.

"You're _kidding_," he said, staring at her with wide eyes.

She shook her head, having walked halfway up the stairs while keeping him in sight. "No," she replied. "I'm quite serious."

A small smile crossed her face as he followed her up the stairs, muttering, "This really is like prison..."

The key stuck in the lock, opening into a fully-furnished living room. The kitchen was in the back left corner of the room, while the hallway before them broke off into two rooms and the bathroom. Retsu slipped out of her shoes, ignoring the incriminating murmurs that followed her. She, for one, was quite pleased with how things were going. It was a nice change of pace to be able to enjoy life, rather than darting in and out of rooms with blood on her hands.

This was a chance to experience something different. To explore the other side of the plane that separated the two worlds. It was a thrill, a chance well worth taking. She settled down into a chair, withdrawing a book from her bag, flipping through the pages to reclaim her place. As she began to read, the sudden sound of screams reached her ears, causing her to jump. Eyes wide, Retsu turned, settling down when she saw that the television was on, set on some horror movie channel.

She leaned around the back of the chair, surprised to see that Mayuri was silently observing the screen, all but oblivious to the fact that the images before him were utterly inhumane.

Retsu raised a hand, shielding her eyes from the carnage that had startled her so. "Do you have to watch that?" she asked, trying to hide her discomfort. "It's... distracting."

His eyes moved, meeting her poorly disguised gaze. Instead of changing the channel, as she had expected him to do, he leaned back into the couch and turned the volume up. That had done it. Dealing with his childish arrogance was more than she had bargained for, even if the vacation had been her idea. She stood, marched over to the wall, and pulled the plug. Without a word, she turned to face him, intent on making it clear that she wasn't going to put up with his games any longer.

"This isn't cute," she said firmly, as if she were speaking to a patient. "Play your games all you want. Just keep me out of it."

With that, she tossed the plug to the floor, turned to retrieve her book, and retreated down the hall to the back room. The only thing she failed to notice was the obviously amused grin on his face.

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><p>Very slight OOC for Unohana at the end, but I really do think that she has a limit as to how much nice she can put out.<p> 


	5. Change

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 5:** Change

**A/N: **Very mild OOC. It's practically non-existent.

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><p>The whole ordeal had started out as nothing short of hell. Strangely enough, all of that had changed within a few short days of being dragged about the dusty little town. Initially, his plan of retaliation had been to torment her and suck the "fun" out of everything, in hopes that the ghastly trip would be cut short. But after her outburst three days before, if one could even go so far as to call it such, he'd changed his mind, deciding instead to humor her for a time.<p>

His change of plans had nothing to do with guilt. Quite the contrary. More than anything, it was idle curiosity. If he were to be stuck in such a pathetic place for the remainder of the two-week period, he saw nothing wrong with learning how she worked. It had all become a game now, a test to see how differently she'd react to much more reasonable behaviors. Well... as reasonable as he could make himself on such short notice. It was an interesting idea, as he'd always enjoyed games, assuming they operated under certain terms. And, with such a tempting opportunity having presented itself, there was no way to say no.

It had all started that morning.

She'd simply marched out the door with her things, without saying so much as a word to him. A clear indication that she was fed up. He'd never been one to voice his opinion on such trifling matters, and he wasn't about to start. Her stark disregard of his existence was what made the game that much more entertaining. As with the Ryoka invasion, he'd simply follow and observe, and somehow find a way to further add to his growing interests.

The day proceeded as he had anticipated, with Retsu barely sparing him a glance. As planned, he trailed quietly at her heels, watching with resigned contentment. Mayuri had grown rather accustomed to the silence, and had busied himself with reading and laughing quietly at a magazine article which claimed to be reporting all kinds of supernatural phenomena. As if the humans really knew what it was that lay on the next plane.

"I can't take it anymore," Retsu said abruptly, pushing the magazine down, ignoring his feigned confusion. "You haven't said anything all day, and yet you've been following me." She leaned in close, hovering at eye level with him. "What are you up to?

Dropping the magazine on the desk, Mayuri leaned back in the chair, maintaining eye contact. "I don't know what you're talking about," he drawled, trying to ignore the discomfort that had settled in as the students began staring.

Retsu sighed, her brow furrowing slightly beneath a dark wave of hair. Mayuri tilted his head, having momentarily forgotten about the conversation. For someone who usually noticed all the little things, he'd certainly missed something big. Instead of weaving her hair the way she usually did, she'd tied it back, allowing it to cascade over her shoulder. But... how the hell was _that _even relevant to the situation?

"You're doing this on purpose," she said, just loud enough for the rest of the class to hear. "I thought it was bad what with your whimpering before. But now, I can see it written all over your face: You're screwing with me!"

His eyes widened, attention having shifted from her to the students who stood clustered around them, staring. Mayuri sighed, shoving his face back into the magazine. Clearly, the little bastards had gotten the wrong impression of them, and, although he wouldn't say anything, it was seriously affecting his mood. Retsu, on the other hand, seemed utterly oblivious to this fact, as she was still staring at him.

Acting solely upon impulse, Mayuri grabbed her wrist, shoving his way through the crowd of wide-eyed students as he dragged her out into the hall. She stared at him, bewildered, causing him to groan loudly and slam the classroom door shut. He was seething by now, shoving his hands through is hair as he breathed, ignoring Retsu's confused gaze.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed, clenching his teeth. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?" Immediately, her gaze softened, joined by that tender smile of hers. Now, it was his turn to be shell-shocked, jaw dropping as the realization of the situation hit him. "You did that on purpose..."

"Of course," she said, smile still in place. "I decided that it would be best to keep up a believable story, so I simply improvised."

Mayuri stared, silently hoping that he'd fallen into one of the usual comas induced by newly produced drugs. He'd always tested them on himself, and dreams of this sort were nothing less than ordinary. But the sinking dread he felt weighing him down _wasn't _usual at all. Painful and infuriating as it was, everything had been pieced together. The blasted woman had improvised nothing short of a typical quarrel that human teenagers experienced whilst within, or pursuing, a relationship.

Humiliating as it was, it was painfully obvious that he'd been had...

**# - # - #**

She had been nothing more than a bystander earlier that day, but there had certainly been something genuine amidst the "squabble" that had broken out just before the lunch hour. The only off thing about it, was that it hadn't come from Captain Unohana's end (or Retsu, as the captain insisted upon being called). Her eyes had wandered as Retsu's voice had quieted down, settling themselves upon her frightening companion. He'd paused completely after his snide remark, staring at her with something that was ill-befitting his character.

It was none of her business, of course. And, as far as she knew, it was all part of the ruse that Retsu had mentioned to herself and Ichigo. If this were the case, then it was certainly believable, as it had even fooled her. But Orihime doubted this, as Retsu had seemed desperate to keep the information a secret.

Orihime shook her head, returning her focus to her studies. She had spent far too long dawdling when she had come home, as she had placed dinner on the stove, invited Tatsuki over for a late movie, and had sat in front of the television to watch re-runs of an old sitcom. Now, there was only an hour left before Tatsuki arrived with the snacks, and she still hadn't gotten any housework or homework done.

Just as she began reading through the assigned pages, a knock sounded at the door, sending her bolting to her feet. A quick glance through the peephole and several unlocked locks later, Uryu Ishida stood in the doorway, his figure lined by the lamps that sat outside the door.

"Uryu!" Orihime chirped, pulling him inside. "You're just in time! Tatsuki will be here soon with some snacks, and then we're going to watch a movie, and.."

He shook his head, glancing awkwardly at the floor before meeting her gaze. "Sorry, but I can't. I just..." Uryu paused, pushing up his glasses as he always did. "I came to talk to you about something..."

In an instant, his message was conveyed to her mind. He'd come to discuss the sudden appearance of captain-level Soul Reapers. Although surprised, she couldn't very well tell herself that she had expected Uryu to overlook such a thing. After all, he'd been just as involved in Rukia's rescue as the rest of them, and, as such, knew how to recognize things such as this.

She turned, offering him a seat on the couch as she darted into the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. Silently, she offered it to him, and he accepted with a nod. The couch cushion sunk slightly as she sat down, perching herself on the edge out of nervousness alone. She watched as he drank, gently setting the glass on a nearby coaster when he was finished.

"There's no need for them to be here," he muttered darkly, hanging his head. "We can handle the pressure. We've always been able to. It's no problem for us to fight off the Hollows now." His gaze hardened as he turned, speaking more to himself than to her. "Do they think us helpless...?"

Orihime balled her fists and shook her head violently. "No," she whispered, her nails digging into her palms. "It's got nothing to do with us. At least, that's what I was told."

Uryu's head snapped up, eyes wide as he stared at her with shock. "They told you this? When? Why?"

"Yesterday... Ichigo knew something was going on when he spotted them, so I went with him after school to find them. It was Captain Unohana who told us so. She said that their presence here is nothing more than a vacation..."

The Quincy sighed, leaning back into the plush couch, closing his eyes. "That's a relief... But," he looked back at her, furrowing his brow, "why? Why Karakura?"

Orihime shrugged, lifting a hand to her mouth. All was silent as she thought, gently biting the tip of her thumb. It made sense that Soul Reapers took vacations, but, of all the places in the world, why had they chosen Karakura Town? What if...

"...he came for me," she murmured, eyes widening to the size of baseballs. She turned, face painted over with panic as she clenched Uryu's shoulders. "You remember, don't you?" she whimpered, raising her voice. "You remember him! You heard him! You fought him and won, Uryu! What if... What if... You heard what he said! He wanted... He wanted..." Her breaths came in shrill gasps as she nearly sobbed. "He wanted to use me, torture me, cut me into pieces!"

Her hands shot to her face, covering her eyes and tugging at her long red hair. The idea, although it was just that, was unbearable. It pained her to think of such inhumane things, let alone to think of herself being subjected to said things. She screamed, covering her ears as the tears cascaded down her face. It would be a nightmare if he got hold of her. She would lose not only everything she had known and loved, but her sanity as well.

She would be forced to watch the world as it was drained of all color. All but the color red.

"Orihime!"

Cracking her eyes open, she looked up at Uryu from the floor, her body curled into a tight ball. He knelt beside her, taking her wrists in his hands as he lifted her back up to the couch. Orihime hung her head, ashamed that she had allowed her fears to overcome her so easily. But, more than anything, she feared him. That manic Kurotsuchi...

"I won't let him take you," Uryu whispered, draping a blanket over her shoulders. "Nothing's going to harm you while I'm around..."

**# - # - #**

Even after her successful trick, as harsh as it had been, Retsu had noted a slight change in her companion's mannerisms. He'd abruptly blown her off just before the lunch hour, having disappeared for the remainder of the day. Upon her return to the apartment, Mayuri had remained silent, without so much as a snide remark as he'd sat by the door with a book, ignoring the home and gardening show that she had been unable to enjoy as the night progressed. When she had asked if he needed more reading light, he had merely insisted that the light by the door was far better than that in the kitchen.

She'd let it go after that, deciding not to further sour his mood.

Yet, she was unable to focus completely upon her program, as her mind continued wandering. What really bothered her was how her eyes would gradually move from the screen to Mayuri's position on the floor. Why she kept staring was a mystery in and of itself. The only real contact they'd had within the Soul Society occurred when she'd teasingly challenge a theory or toxin he'd developed, to which he'd respond with laughable scorn.

Now, they were merely four days into their vacation, and she was already having the hardest time focusing in and out of classes. The change she'd noticed in so short a time was astounding, but it was nothing to get too excited about. For all she knew, he had resigned himself to running a carnival, with her as the main attraction. Anything was possible, but the odds of a genuine change were slim at best. The carnival game was far more likely.

Eventually, she had stepped out onto the balcony, staring off at the downtown area with all of its flashing lights. A beautiful sight, but not nearly enough to keep her mind off of her absurd companion. After several minutes, she returned to the warmth that awaited inside, only to find that he'd long-since shut off the lights and left. Her initial reaction was to know, at all times, what he was doing, but she chose instead to brew a steaming cup of tea to calm her nerves.

Several minutes, and a broken glass later, she gave up, and crept down the hall to the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, she noticed a difference. It wasn't so much her appearance as it was her eyes. There was something foreign there, something that seemed to light them up like a fresh candle on a dark, rainy night. But even a fresh flame couldn't burn away the doubt that consumed her. Covering her mouth, Retsu turned off the light, slipping back out into the hallway.

The sound of the television from the front room was easily drowned out by her heavy breathing and the powerful beating of her heart. She felt cold, lost, even while knowing exactly where she was. Time seemed to stop as her trembling hand rested on the door handle, matching the nervousness that had planted itself within. Hesitation had set in, strangling her. Her hand had moved, without her knowledge, pushing the door open slightly.

Darkness enveloped her as she found herself clinging to the door for dear life. Her eyes, having adjusted to the dark, peered in through the suffocation, finding nothing. The door closed with a gentle click, setting her mind at ease.

She wasn't supposed to care what he was up to, she reminded herself. All in all, she was only meant to ensure that he didn't create trouble for the Soul Society. That was all. Still, it didn't seem to be enough.

Retsu slipped back through the hallway, easing herself into the plush couch with a sigh. As she began to slip off into a gentle slumber, her eyes shifted, glancing out the window at the dim light that had filtered in. For a moment, she was sure that he'd been standing right there...


	6. Denial

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 6:** Denial

**A/N: **This first part makes me laugh a bit.

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><p>Retsu awakened at about dawn the next morning, her eyes slamming shut as light assaulted them, bringing a disgruntled look to her usually serene face. She pushed herself up on her hands, realizing that she'd fallen asleep on the couch. Hurriedly, she rushed to the window, staring at her unkempt appearance. Just as she turned to stare down the hallway, a loud scream pervaded her ears, causing her to jump with fear.<p>

After steadying herself, she cast her eyes down the hall to stare at the closed bathroom door. Her brow furrowed as she slid down the hallway, the sounds growing louder and louder as she went. Finally, she pressed an ear to the door, coming to the realization that Mayuri had turned the radio on, probably to scare the life out of her. Retsu shook her head, retreating into the kitchen to wait out the horrific wailing.

A sudden, and rather pleasant, scent blew itself into her face as she entered the kitchen, eyes turning to the counter where a steaming pot of black coffee sat. Clearly, he'd been awake long before her. Pouring herself a cup, Retsu returned to the front room to stare silently at the newscasters on the screen, their emergency reports flying straight through her head. She was caught up in her own thoughts now, wondering what had come over her the previous night. Why she had ventured to check in on him was shocking, as she'd only ever thought of the man as being a heartless bastard with a severe mental problem.

Blinding light abruptly shot before her field of vision, replaying images, possibly memories, that she couldn't recall in the slightest. More than anything, they were disturbing, casting a sudden pall on the good mood she had developed. Even more strange were the visions, dreams that she assumed she'd had the previous night, all of which showed those brooding eyes staring at her. It was disconcerting to know that her mind had conjured up such things, even in a state of sleep.

He meant nothing to her, she reminded herself, sipping at the now lukewarm coffee. More than anything, she was a babysitter, watching the child who had been entrusted to her reputable care. She rose, leaving the cup on a coaster as she hurried into her room to change for the day.

Upon her return, she was surprised to see that Mayuri was standing by the door, still dripping wet and out of uniform. She wouldn't say anything, but if he was trying to look like he didn't give a damn about the world, he'd certainly passed with flying colors. She slipped past him, noting that he wasn't even paying attention to her in the slightest. His eyes were glued to the screen, absorbing the images of a rather gruesome surgical procedure. As she reached into the refrigerator for her lunch, Retsu shook her head. The man really had an issue with focusing on anything _not _related to his twisted profession.

"They won't let you in like that," she commented, referring to his attire. The school was clearly strict about uniform, and Retsu could guarantee that he wouldn't get in with black jeans and a shirt with the kanji for "Black Soul" scrawled upon it. Personally, she blamed herself for his sudden interest, if one could call it that, in human attire. "They'll send you back."

He shrugged, eyes still focused on the screen. "Doesn't really matter," he replied quietly, suddenly stepping out the door. "I'm not going."

Retsu's face contorted into a look of shock. Not going? What in heaven's name did he mean by _that_? She turned, quickly turning the screen to black with the remote before following.

As she followed, failing to realize where he was leading her, Retsu's face turned into a melancholy grimace. It was irritating to be nothing but a bystander in such a time. There was no controlling this man, let alone talking any sense into him. In her eyes, and in the eyes of many of the other captains, he was a loose cannon, hellbent on dictating what he deemed worthy. There was no room in his world for rules or regulations; he created those on his own. She'd watched for well over a century now, curious as to when he'd outgrow the rebellion that had planted itself within his brilliant mind and cold heart.

She'd watched and waited, and nothing of the sort had even come close. Everything around him was something to be picked apart, researched, and, eventually, tossed aside. What made her think that their current situation would be any different? People didn't change within a matter of days, let alone people with habits and opinions as strong as Mayuri's. It was hopeless to dream, let alone think, of what she could do to change him.

People like him _didn't _change.

A sad, but truthful, realization. It was almost reminiscent of patients she'd treated in the past; patients who, despite her best efforts to save them, had perished in unfathomable sorrow and agony. She recalled a moment several decades before, when Kisuke Urahara had been named captain. Although it had been none of her business, she had voiced her concern for the dangerous character he had brought out of confinement, curious as to how he planned on keeping Mayuri under control. He'd simply explained that he didn't know if he'd made the right choice, and that there was no way, other than letting time pass, to tell.

At the time, his words seemed foolhardy, as did his actions. She had remained silent about it, having secretly deemed him an idiot for taking such an obscene risk. Now, she was the one responsible for keeping Mayuri in line. And, so far, Retsu felt that she hadn't done a very good job. She had kept her distance, simply reminding him about proper conduct every now and again. What a pitiful job she was doing, allowing him to, essentially, run rampant through the streets.

It was a miracle he hadn't murdered anyone yet.

Retsu looked up, suddenly realizing she was walking out of a bookstore, Mayuri still quiet and leading the way. With a newfound resolve, she darted around him, blocking his path as she stared him down. For a moment, she caught a brief flash of shock in his eyes as he looked up from the book he was holding. Almost as quickly as it had appeared, it was obliterated, having been taken over by a look of questionable irritation.

"What are you doing...?" he asked, returning his gaze to the page.

Abruptly, she snatched the thing from his hand, slamming it shut as she took off down the street, looking back only to see the dumbfounded look on his face. His angry shouts, easily laced with plenty of swearing, followed her as she raced through the wide-eyed passersby that lined the shopping center. Fifteen minutes, and a refreshing ice tea later, Retsu, who had quickly run into the mall's food court, spotted him running down the stairs, slamming his hands on the table when he reached her.

She smiled sweetly, taking another sip of her ice tea as she flipped through the book without so much as a word to the man who stood glowering at her. Turning it over to read the back cover, Retsu's eyes widened slightly, sliding the book across the table when she'd finished. A comment as to the book's dark contents was called for, but she resigned herself to saying nothing. It would be easier, and less taxing on her nerves, to avoid starting such an unpleasant conversation.

Her eyes moved, avoiding the magazine that she'd picked up from a nearby shop, realizing that Mayuri was quietly flying through the pages, ignoring her completely. The more she watched him, the more the realization sunk in. In only four days, her mannerisms, thoughts, and even dreams, had changed for the worst.

Retsu closed her eyes, resigning herself to the situation at hand. Slowly, without even meaning to, she had easily fallen for him.

**# - # - #**

He'd never really given much thought to the fact that the stone-cold captain had saved his life. So, the man had spared him from the hellish tortures at the hands of the Espada, Szayel. That had been weeks ago, and still there was nothing even remotely mirroring gratitude within his heart. Nothing he did could erase the sins of the past. The sin of murder, torture, desecration. What Uryu held dear, his family, had been taken, trashed, and scrapped.

Forgiveness still wasn't an option.

He was still bitter, brimming with hatred and shock. There wasn't a thing in the world that could have prepared him for the news he had received from the man himself. What bothered him more than that, had been the way the captain had relayed the information. That sardonic grin had been present all the while, and he had spoken as if the whole occurrence, the murder and torture of Soken Ishida, had been nothing more than a fond memory since past, or a delightful daydream.

Uryu clenched his fists, tugging harshly on the strap of his bag as he headed downtown. He had to get away from home for a while, to escape from all the old familiar places that he and his grandfather had frequented during the summers of his childhood. It was all too much, too painful, and he had allowed himself to focus upon such unpleasant things, drowning himself in a sea of spilled blood and gut-wrenching despair. Mulling over the past wouldn't do him any good. He had to keep throwing the past behind him, searching for something that would lift his spirits.

As he walked, the afternoon sun beating down upon his shoulders, he spotted a couple of elementary school boys, quarreling over who could throw farther. One of the boys abruptly picked up a stone and let it fly in Uryu's direction. The Quincy watched with mild interest as the stone soared over his head and down the street, stopping after having bounced several times. As the boys started up their argument again, he hurried down the street to where he'd seen the stone land, bending over to clutch it firmly in his hand.

Opening his hand, Uryu ran a thumb over the stone's smooth, pearly surface. Perhaps this was how his heart had once been: Gentle, unscathed, pure. He shook his head, bitterly throwing the thing over a nearby wall. That side of him, the gentle, loving little boy, had died along with his grandfather years before. Since then, he'd been very much like the hardened street he walked upon: Cold, dark, rough, and, in some places, cracked and imperfect.

Coming to a halt at the bus stop, he turned, gazing up at the clouds that had started to converge upon the sun. "That's just how it is..."

**# - # - #**

The rest of the day was spent in almost complete silence, with his focus set only upon the stack of various books that sat on the table before him. Half of them had easily been set aside within a matter of hours, finished and suddenly irrelevant to his interests. Even with something new and fascinating staring him in the face, there was still an unstable presence weighing down upon him, watching, waiting, and practically falling to pieces.

It was irritating, listening to the woman's shallow, trembling breaths. Her behavior had been the same for well over four ours, her eyes locked on the world outside the window, shaking, gasping, and, God forbid, sobbing. More than once, he'd stood up and turned on the faucet so as to drown out the racket she'd created. By the way she was behaving, she seemed to think herself insane, which was truly a laughable concept. If anything, she was the foundation of mental health within the Soul Society. Such a fact made it unthinkable that she'd spiral out of control like this.

The odds were higher that she was beating herself up over something trivial, as women were known to do.

Eventually, he'd slipped out one of the back windows to get the hell away from all the misery that was going on indoors. It was easier to focus when there was silence, even if it was mildly disturbed by the presence of a fresh rainstorm. In the lightly frosted air of late winter and early spring, there was a light chill that swiftly sent the children of the neighborhood inside for coats and sweaters. Mayuri, on the other hand, wasn't the least bit bothered by it, except when the constantly turning pages would end up damp. He leaned back, closing his eyes. Solitude was all he needed. To be away from chattering assistants and negative results was sublime. Relaxing, even.

There was no pressure, no screams, no doubt lingering at the back of his mind. There was only silence. Peace.

"It's nice... isn't it?"

He glanced up, having been unable to attach the voice to a familiar face. There was really no room for surprise when the girl stared down at him with quiet eyes. She raised a hand, running it through her red hair as she sat quietly on the railing. It was almost idiotic to watch her smiling as she glanced out into the rainstorm. There was an awkward peace surrounding her, the likes of which he'd never known. How she could be so calm in his presence was astounding, especially after their laughable encounter within the Soul Society. He'd seen how she'd fallen back that night, cold and drowning as he'd advanced, his ghoulish appearance reflected in her wide eyes.

Even in the more recent past, mere days before, she'd cowered behind Ichigo Kurosaki as he'd watched her with mild interest. After that, he'd forgotten about her entirely, casting aside the prospects she would have held as a test subject. It seemed that she'd swiftly outgrown her fears of him since then.

The seconds ticked by lazily as he stared angrily at the drenched book that sat beside him, busying himself with peeling the pages from one another. Even the cold, steady drip of the rain that fell down his back failed to elicit any meaningful response. He'd shut out the world around him, content with mulling over the material he'd been working to decipher over the last few weeks.

"You should say something to her, you know," the girl whispered, stretching her hand out into the rain. "It would do you both some good."

Mayuri scoffed, tossing the damaged item through the window before following it. The stupid girl didn't know what the hell she was talking about. A common mistake among the humans, always interfering in matters that didn't concern them in the slightest. Lightning flashed in the distance, seeping through the window to illuminate Retsu's sleeping form upon the couch. He grimaced, turning his attention to the sopping wet book on the floor. He kicked it aside, knowing that the amateurish binding would fall apart anyway, and retrieved a towel from the bathroom before settling into another medical program.

He glanced back, shaking off any stupid ideas that the idiot girl had planted. The woman was nothing, meant nothing. She was just another ignorant fool, the likes of which the Soul Society had promoted to the rank of captain. She, like the others, had no sense, no appreciation, for anything worthwhile. Although she was more sensible than most, it still meant nothing.

Retsu Unohana, as well as her existence, was irrelevant...

* * *

><p>Do I even need to say where this is going?<p> 


	7. Conflict

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 7:** Conflict

**A/N:** This is really enjoyable for me. I can only hope that the rest of you are having as much fun as I am.

* * *

><p>A day out of the apartment, and away from Mayuri, was exactly what she'd needed. Even with the rainclouds hanging over the city, pouring down over her head in buckets, it was a time to push all cares to the back of her mind, and to enjoy what there was around her. She didn't know much about the layout of the city, so, the day before, after being coerced into skipping classes, Orihime had taken the time to show her where all the shops of importance were, much to Retsu's pleasure. Although she had intended to spend the day alone, while out at the grocery store for some much-needed shopping, Retsu had run into the most unlikely person imaginable, allowing the smiling man to carry her bags as they took a leisurely walk about the water-logged city.<p>

Children, free for the weekend, darted about in their raincoats and rubber boots, some throwing rocks into puddles while others jumped in or rode bicycles through them, spraying one another. It was a tender, heartwarming sight that brought back gentle memories of her own days at that age, creating mischief and romping about the fields of the Rukongai in the warm summer sun. Their laughter was symphonic, like a chorus of little angels on a cool spring morning, darting in and out of blooming trees and bushes as if the greenery were part of a playground.

"So, how are things? Is he giving you hell?"

Although it had only been about a week since she'd last seen him, it had felt like far longer. But now, after having run into him, she felt that things were closer to being the way they were before. Retsu turned, giving her friend a playful warning glance, ignoring his failed attempt to hide his laughter behind a hand. When, at first, she'd proposed that she take matters into her own hands and teach Mayuri what a vacation was like, he had laughed himself right into a fit of heavy coughing. Now that she had, somewhat, succeeded, it didn't bother her so much anymore. In fact, she'd grown quite used to his sense of humor over the years, which had granted her immunity to his special brand of fun.

"Of course not," she smiled, hands trembling within her coat pockets. "What in the world would prompt you to ask such a thing?"

White hair still hung in his eyes, despite the fact that he'd tied it back. His grin grew wider and he looked away, shoulders trembling with laughter as he struggled to maintain his grip on the grocery bag. "Well," he said, staring into the rain, "he's not the most... reasonable character I've met."

His words were straight and to the point, but it didn't make him right. Were they back in the Soul Society, then he would have been correct, as Mayuri wasn't exactly well-known for complying with requests and the like.

"You're right," Retsu said quietly, casting her eyes to the wet ground below, "he is... But we actually had _fun _yesterday..."

Although she hadn't mentioned it to him, she'd found it... cute that he'd go so far as to chase her through town just for a if she voiced such a thing, especially to Jushiro, he'd lecture her as if she were a child.

Jushiro's brown eyes widened slightly as he turned to stare at her, unwilling to believe what she'd just said. "You... _what_?"

A smile spread as she laughed at the look on his face. "Oh, don't be that way, Jushiro," she scolded, shaking her head at him, trying to convince herself that her feelings meant nothing. "I hate to say it, but you're starting to sound just like Shunsui. Always assuming the worst and, in this case, most perverse things."

"Don't compare me to him," Jushiro chuckled, taking a couple steps back. "You caught me off guard with that comment." He smiled gently, placing a hand on her arm. "I'm just worried about you. That's all..."

As he turned away, she stopped, allowing him to move forward without her as he laughed and chatted on. Even Jushiro, who always noticed everything, was missing the pained gleam in her eye as he spoke in such a way. She didn't _want _them to be true, her feelings, but they were. Her consent, and gradual sense of comfort, was all that had been needed for everything she knew to change. It hadn't taken long. Just a few days short of a week. It was this that made her question her own judgment, curious as to whether or not she was still thinking clearly. But, more than anything, she wanted to know...

Did she _really_ love him?

"Retsu?" A flash of white hair and those gentle eyes appeared within her field of vision. As her eyes met his, he shrunk back a bit, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you... all right...?"

Fearing that he would learn the truth, she straightened up with a melancholy smile, staring up at the angry sky above. "I am," she replied, enjoying the feel of the rain on her skin. "I just wish... it hadn't rained today..."

**# - # - #**

The previous night had been long, dark, even torturous. It was fitting for the light to be trapped behind the mass of dark thunderheads, as there was little at the moment that merited positive thinking, let alone the irritation of sunlight in one's face. Everything had become irrelevant, having given way to uncharacteristic thoughts and ideas that had so easily pervaded his head. Trying to shut them away was like trying to capture water in a basket: It was pointless, impossible, and maddening. It had all been a mistake, getting sucked into her delusional get-away plan, and, as a repercussion, his stupidity was all coming back to torture him.

It seemed that everything was closing in, pushing those unusual ideas closer by the minute. It was like a bullet train, nearly impossible to stop. With each passing second, it drew nearer, proclaiming its presence in the dead of night. He wanted nothing to do with these damned illusions, but they had planted their roots deep, unwilling to set him free.

It was distasteful, this damned confusion. It was pitiful.

He'd never wanted this. It was far simpler to remain closed off from the world, immune to, and safe from, all the hellfire and brimstone that fell from the skies. Relations, of any kind, had never been his strong suite. It was just how he operated. And then, she'd come along with her stupid ideas, dragging him into the fire with pretty words and false promises. Why, of all people, had she been the one to do this to him? He would have been perfectly content with being nagged by Nemu or Akon about a vacation, as he could have easily dismissed and ignored them.

But this one, this woman, was relentless. She'd somehow managed to worm her way through his shell to make the change that she'd desired. And it had worked. She was now the poison coursing through his veins. All that was left was to decide... Was she worth it, or not?

"Well, well. Never thought I'd see you down here."

Mayuri flinched, grimacing as he pushed himself off the floor to turn and face the window. He'd been an idiot to leave it open on such a horrid day, as it had clearly soaked the carpet, and now he had an unwanted visitor preying on his uncharacteristic insecurities. Golden eyes met a familiar face, further souring his mood. He wanted nothing to do with the man he saw smirking at him, and had every reason to want to kill him, based on the moment.

The man, on the other hand, simply smiled, ignoring the glares Mayuri shot his way. Obviously, he found the whole thing to be pretty damn funny.

"Oh, don't look at me that way," he chided, waving a hand as he climbed through the window. "I'm only here to help."

Mayuri rolled his eyes, collapsing on the floor again. People like Kisuke Urahara didn't _help _situations like this; they made them significantly worse. And, of anyone he'd ever met, Kisuke was by far the _worst_ at resolving problems. The man created more and managed to get into the worst kind of trouble. Those tendencies alone easily explained how he'd been framed for the events that had quickly cost him his captaincy. Even if the idiot wasn't at fault.

He glanced back to the window, sighing loudly as Kisuke continued his idiotic staring. "You're irritating," Mayuri huffed, staring boredly at the ceiling. "What do you want...?"

The shopkeeper shrugged, his grin fading almost instantly. "I'd heard from a reliable source that you were in town," he replied, leaning against the wall below the window, "and I thought I'd come and say hello. Is that so wrong?"

Mayuri nodded, wishing that there was something within reach that he could throw at the man. But it was useless. Frankly, he was miserable this way; being eaten alive by the turmoil that bubbled beneath the surface. The last thing he wanted was to talk about it, _especially_ with an imbecile like Kisuke. Problems of the past had always been solved sooner, and with much more certainty, when he'd kept them to himself. So, what was the difference with this one? Did it have something to do with the fact that it _wasn't _scientific?

It seemed that everything that made sense was gone, having shattered before he could solve the puzzle. He lived for that which couldn't be explained. So, why was this suddenly so damned hard? He'd never even liked the woman, let alone paid any attention to her. They'd always had a bit of a bitter rivalry going between them, but that had been the extent of their contact with one another. It had been strictly professional.

But now, everything was changing for the worse.

He didn't know what to think anymore. The only thing he knew for certain was that he'd been a fool to play along with her charade. His idea of playing a game with her had been a fatal mistake, and it had backfired in the worst possible way.

"Why are you still here?" Mayuri tilted his head back, staring at the shopkeeper, who was now upside down. "I've got nothing to say to you..."

Much to his chagrin, the man smirked again, laughing this time. "You always were the difficult one," he chuckled, leaning his chin into his hands. "Even more than Hiyori. She was the firework of the lot, and you were the impossible one. I'm glad to see that much hasn't changed. But..." Kisuke said, sliding out the window, "since you're so reluctant, I'll leave you to your thoughts."

The gentle click of the closing window was like pulling the trigger. As soon as he was sure the man was gone, Mayuri slammed a fist into the floor, seething. He was losing his mind. Something that even he couldn't have forseen.

What was it about this woman that drove him utterly mad...?

* * *

><p>The characters aren't the only ones being tortured. I'm dying, too.<p> 


	8. Anxiety

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 8: **Anxiety

**A/N: **Now, I'm just as anxious as all the characters. If not more.

* * *

><p>More than anything, he was worried about her. The days she'd described to him, the ones spent with a character as... difficult as Kurotsuchi, had all been filled with strange and uncharacteristic pleasantries on the man's part. Jushiro couldn't help but think that he was up to something. Men like Mayuri Kurotsuchi didn't play along with such activities without having an ulterior motive waiting beneath the surface. He was planning something, Jushiro was sure of it. But he couldn't very well do anything about it without confirming his suspicions.<p>

Thinking back on the day before, Retsu had seemed almost hurt when he'd laughed at her. If that had been the case, he'd have to remember to apologize when he saw her again. His brown eyes lit up, sending his hand into his pocket for the paper she'd given him before they'd gone their separate ways. Staring at it with a smile, he began traversing the wet streets, staring at every apartment complex that came into his sight, scouring the apartment numbers for the correct one. Several blocks and twenty minutes later, he found it.

Jushiro climbed the stairs far faster than he needed to, banging on the door as the rain pervaded the hood he'd thrown over his head. Something inside moved, peeking through the window before the locks began to come undone. The white-haired man's eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of the man standing before him. He didn't recognize him in the slightest, what with the absence of his usually hellish appearance, but the man's cold eyes were more than enough of an indication as to who he was. He'd know those eyes anywhere. Normally, he would have ignored the man, but there was something different about him. Something almost solemn.

"Is Retsu here?" he asked, averting his gaze to the package in his hand. "I've brought some things for her."

Surprisingly, Mayuri gave no snide retort, instead moving back inside to quickly point Jushiro to the hallway. "Back there," he said, closing the door. "Been in there all day. Hasn't come out for a damned thing..."

What surprised Jushiro more than anything else was the unethical captain's silence. He was usually very open in expressing opinions or simply discussing whatever had caught his attention, but now he was all but silent, retreating to the window to stare outside. Jushiro shook his head, starting into the dark little hallway. He had no time to question, let alone worry about, Mayuri's reasons for being so introverted. He had come to see Retsu.

He raised a hand, knocking on the door as gently as he could. Seconds ticked by, and there was no sign of movement inside. Again, he knocked, only to be met with the same result. Trudging back out into the front room, his eyes widened as Mayuri swept past him, stopping at the locked door. Jushiro's protective instincts welled up inside him, and he reached out, grabbing the other man by the shoulder.

"Idiot," Mayuri sneered, slapping Jushiro's hand away. "Do you want to see her or not?"

Jushiro hesitated, curious as to the motives behind those eyes, before stepping back. Before he could even blink, the door was open, and Mayuri was gone almost as swiftly as he'd come. He was very uncomfortable with the situation in which he found himself, as he was unsure as to what had occurred between the two to merit their sudden distance from one another. Deciding that it was none of his business, although he wished very much that it was, Jushiro peered inside, spotting Retsu on the bed.

He moved quietly, gently touching her shoulder as he knelt on the floor. "Retsu..."

She turned, smiling faintly upon catching sight of him. "Jushiro, how did you get in here...? I thought I locked..."

The white-haired captain grimaced slightly, not wanting to so much as speak the other man's name. "I called a locksmith," he lied through gritted teeth, spotting golden eyes from down the hall. Turning his attention back to Retsu, he placed the package on the bed, smiling as best he could as he pulled off the tape. "I thought you might like these, so I picked them up from that shop you showed me yesterday."

When she failed to look at him, he placed his hand over hers, his eyes brimming with fear. For as long as he'd known her, he'd never once seen Retsu this way. Not once had she openly refused to see the bright side of things. This time was, clearly, very different, however. Pulling open the flaps of the box revealed several packages of various tea leaves. Initially, Jushiro had hoped that his surprise would please her, but she hadn't seemed to notice.

He rose, taking her hand gently in his. "I'll leave you, then," he said as she turned away. "Would you mind terribly if I came again tomorrow?"

"No," she whispered. "No, I'd like that... Very much."

As he moved through the doorway, her hand slipped from his, falling limply in her lap as it had been before. The man shook his head with worry as he wandered back out into the front room, failing to notice Mayuri's curious gaze upon him. Originally, he had come to the World of the Living to collect some things that Rukia had apparently left in the care of Ichigo Kurosaki. But now, his mission had changed entirely, focusing entirely upon Retsu and her well-being. Now, he had two people to worry about: Rukia and Retsu.

His eyes moved, meeting those of the scowling captain opposite him. Jushiro smirked slightly, noting that Mayuri didn't look nearly as menacing as usual. Something had significantly altered his personality, and that bothered him. Truly, he believed that Mayuri was the reason Retsu was so withdrawn. It angered him to know that his friend had changed so much just by being around this man. And, more than anything, he wanted to find out why.

"Are you going to stand there like a fool," Mayuri huffed, staring blankly at the flashing television screen, "or are you going to say something...?"

Jushiro crossed the room swiftly, staring down at the other man, fire blazing in his eyes. "I don't know what you've done, Kurotsuchi," he hissed, trying to maintain his temper, "but you'd best stay away from her. Don't test me and think that I won't find out."

Mayuri rolled his eyes, making a distasteful face. "You people are all the same. Always fearing what you don't understand. Isn't that the case, _Captain_? You're scared to death... because you have no idea what the hell is going on." Jushiro's widening eyes brought that sadistic smirk into play. "That's what I thought..."

Turning his back on the smirking bastard, Jushiro clenched his teeth, urging himself not to lose control. It was what the sadist wanted, to prompt him into making some stupid mistake. But he couldn't bring himself to take the bait. If not for his sake, then for Retsu's. The last thing she needed was to deal with their arguing. He shook his head, strands of white hair falling out of his ponytail and over his shoulder.

"I can't do this," he said, as he opened the door. "I can't do this to her. I don't know what your game is, but if you have so much as a shred of decency, you'll follow my lead."

**# - # - #**

The hours passed by slowly after Jushiro's departure. Despite his best efforts, she still felt horrid. Confusion and anxiety plagued her without end, replaying thoughts, dreams, and questions in her head, almost as if she were viewing the same film over and over. It was tiring to watch these things constantly, never being given a chance to rest and think things through. It was almost as if she were broken, having been cast aside for her lack of functioning parts.

At least, that's how she saw it.

Retsu wasn't stupid. She'd swiftly picked up on the fact that something was wrong. He'd been avoiding her like the Black Plague, turning away whenever she was within feet of him. It was irritating, watching so strong a reaction. That, and painful.

She hadn't slept the night before, as she had reflected on her conversation with Jushiro all the while. It hadn't bothered her, what he'd said. More than anything, she was bothered by her own conflicting emotions. Countless times, she'd asked herself one question: Did she really love him? In truth, Mayuri was nothing like the man she'd dreamed of as a child. The one who fit that description to the letter was Jushiro.

How could she have gotten so confused?

Allowing her face to fall into her hands, she trembled, ashamed that she was worrying about such a petty matter rather than dwelling on the well-being of her patients back in the Soul Society. But even when she tried, it was useless to try and think about them. Her mind easily dismissed them as being irrelevant to her predicament, which always brought her right back to where she'd been minutes, even hours, earlier.

All that seemed to matter was discerning his moods, his actions. Nothing else seemed to exist. It was as if the two of them were in a world all their own. A world conjured by her fragile mind. She rose from the bed, slipping out into the darkened hallway. Poised just behind the corner, her eyes closed as she allowed herself to breathe deeply, casting aside all pain and unnecessary emotion. Silence overcame her, offering solace that she'd missed for what felt like years.

Moving slowly, she peeked around the corner, spotting the man fast asleep on the floor. As he turned, facing her, Retsu felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart ached as she slipped back into the shadows, breathing a sigh of relief.

Even without meaning to, he'd somehow managed to win her affections...

* * *

><p>My heart races when I write these chapters. I'm not sure if that's healthy or not, but the suspense is killing me, too. Ironic, really... seeing as I know what's going to happen.<p> 


	9. Notice

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 9: **Notice

**A/N: **This was interesting to write.

* * *

><p>When Retsu had informed Jushiro of her decision the following day, he'd furrowed his brow and pouted like a child, leaning his chin into a hand as he stared across the table at her. To be sure, he sincerely believed it to be a mistake. But Retsu had always been stubborn upon deciding on something, and he was quite sure that she wouldn't change her mind even for the life of him. Instead of further arguing his point, he leaned back in his chair, watching as the waiter arrived with their drinks.<p>

He watched in uncomfortable silence as the water from the pitcher filled his glass, droplets spraying every which way as the ice began to crack and clink together. As Retsu was one of his dearest friends, Jushiro was not at all willing to watch her head down, what he believed to be, a self-destructive path. Were she to get too involved with and attached to Mayuri, she would inevitably end up resenting her choice, if not herself.

And even if she didn't, Jushiro still didn't trust the bastard in the slightest. He'd seen enough of the man's horrid temper and blatant disregard for regulations and ethics to know that he wasn't at all capable of caring for a woman like Retsu. It wasn't appearance so much as it was personality. Had Mayuri shown his face years before, Jushiro was sure that several female officers would have started up some kind of crazy fan club. What with her being a woman, it wouldn't be surprising for him to find out that Retsu was simply suffering from a strong physical attraction. But the way she talked about the man was like something out of a deranged nightmare, especially the soft gleam in her eye when she spoke his name.

It was sickening to know that Mayuri had her on a chain like this. Jushiro grimaced, tuning Retsu out as she further explained her reasoning. He didn't care, and he certainly didn't want to hear anymore about it. Even if she ended up hating him, he'd protect her from this devil. As long as he had something to say about it, Mayuri wouldn't so much as touch her.

"Jushiro, please," he heard her say, his brown eyes darting up to meet hers. "Don't make this any harder than it needs to be."

The white-haired captain sighed, bringing the cool glass to his lips. He knew that it was wrong to be interfering in her personal affairs, but his protective instinct had overcome all rational thought. Setting the glass down, he brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, and whispered, "I'm just worried about you. I don't... I don't trust him."

He hated the fact that she didn't respond, having easily resigned herself to staring across the street at a group of children who ran about in front of the shops, pulling up colorful weeds and calling them flowers. Jushiro sighed, trying to get Retsu's attention as the waiter returned to deliver their meal.

"I know you don't," she replied calmly, folding her napkin into her lap, "but I _do_."

The way she looked at him was a clear indication of her distaste for his cold behavior, but he was beyond the point of caring. Certainly, she _would _hate him for interfering, for saving her from a lifetime of regret, but it was worth it so long as she came out of this without a mark to show for it.

A sudden barrage of curses, honking car horns, and giggling women reached Jushiro's ears, causing him to roll his eyes. He glanced to the left, not at all surprised to see Shunsui strolling through traffic with two beautiful women hanging on him. The white-haired captain glowered at his friend, shaking his head as if to say, "You came at the worst possible time." In response to his sour expression, the smiling Shunsui slipped into the empty chair beside Jushiro, calling on the waiter for a bottle of the finest wine available.

"Nice day, isn't it?" the hopeless drunkard whistled, failing to notice Jushiro's death glare. "And what a surprise to find the two of you here."

Jushiro shook his head as the waiter came back, insisting that he take the wine as far away from his friend as possible. As soon as the young man had departed, Jushiro scowled at Shunsui again, grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him aside.

"What are you _doing _here?" he hissed, eyes wide. "I'm in the middle of a crisis!"

Shunsui merely shrugged, waving stupidly at the women who had begun blowing him kisses. "Now, now," he chided, winking at the girls, "let's not get carried away. I'm only here to find you," he said, poking Jushiro in the chest with a finger. "You've been gone longer than you originally told the old man, so I thought I'd come find you."

"No, you thought you'd come find someone to fool around with," Jushiro said through his teeth, pointing openly at the scantily dressed women. "If you're just here to make me miserable, don't bother. I already have _plenty _to handle without you here nagging me." The white-haired man then ushered the girls to Shunsui's side, insisting that they go take care of their "business" somewhere away from the public eye.

"What was that about?" Retsu asked inquisitively as Jushiro returned to the table.

He shook his head, quietly informing her that Shunsui was, once again, drunk and causing problems. "He's fortunate that Nanao's not here to strangle him..." Jushiro muttered, _almost _hoping that the angry lieutenant would be waiting for his friend when he returned to the Soul Society. "It would really serve him right for interrupting us and... messing around like that."

The idea that Shunsui was so shameless was distracting. Now, he had _three _people to worry about, and one to chase off, all while trying to come up with a very vague reason as to why he'd remained in the World of the Living longer than planned. But getting chewed out by his old teacher wasn't his main concern at all. He'd easily taken the heat from the old man several times before, and another ten minutes in the hot seat wouldn't kill or degrade him.

His eyes widened as Retsu stood, asking to be excused, as she had much more to take care of before the day was through. Jushiro mimicked her movements, his eyes quiet as she thanked him for a wonderful time, asking if he would be available again the next day. He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face as he watched her hurry down the street, turning back only to wave at him. Had he been more in the mood, he would have given her a more genuine farewell. But seeing her like this was disconcerting. Jushiro had no doubt that she had things to do, but he was certain that one of those things had something to do with the detestable bastard.

**# - # - #**

It wasn't at all surprising that the Quincy boy had found him, what with Retsu having dragged him to that damned school four days out of the last week, parading around and attracting unneeded attention. She hadn't even bothered to operate under the guise of a false name, which was likely how the Quincy had recognized him. The boy's threats were empty, although he _hadn't _expected something like this to happen. They didn't really mean anything, his angry words, but the whole situation was still just as irritating, as he had plenty to do without trying to coax a stupid, vengeful, hormone-induced teenager into letting go of his jacket.

The boy's eyes were anything but friendly, matching the almost comical scowl that had plastered itself to his face. Had the Quincy not regained his powers, Mayuri would have said something to further anger him, but, seeing how things had gone so well for him the first time they'd met, he decided not to push his luck. But it was boring, being pressed against the wall by this brat, half-listening to him drone on and on about his decrepit old grandfather. It was understandable for him to be pissed off, but it certainly didn't merit such childish behavior.

When Uryu finally quieted down, breathing heavy and arms trembling, Mayuri made a face, rolling his eyes to match. "Are you quite finished?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy. "I have much better things to do than listen to your pathetic whimpering."

The Quincy flinched, giving the captain the opening needed to shove him away. Not only had the little bastard bored him half to death, but he'd left a rather uncomfortable pain in Mayuri's shoulder, which was reluctant to leave him alone. The captain shrugged, a vain attempt to fight off the plaguing pain, before turning his back on the Quincy, ignoring the boy's irritating voice as it grated upon his last nerve. Mayuri shook his head, pushing aside the ideas that shown up. Ideas that would have been classified as "certifiably insane" by human psychiatrists.

"I'm not done with you yet!" Uryu shouted, grabbing the captain by the shoulder again. "Don't you dare walk away from me, you bastard!"

Mayuri grimaced, almost wishing that the loudmouthed Quincy _had _killed him. That way, at least, he wouldn't have to listen to this useless tantrum. "My god," he hissed, waving a hand at the wide-eyed boy, "you really are a bother. Why don't you go do something more productive with your little friends? I'm sure they'd love nothing more than to listen to depressing stories about a decrepit old bastard."

The shock of the impact was, once again, completely unexpected. Mayuri blinked several times, still trying to process what had just happened. Judging by the sudden pain in his jaw, as well as the Quincy's raised fist, the brat had struck him. And in the face, no less. A frightened gasp grabbed his attention, and he turned to see Retsu standing several feet away, eyes wide with shock. She stepped forward, pulling the two of them apart almost threateningly as she proceeded to chew them out about acting like children.

But Mayuri paid her no mind. For, when the Quincy was gone, it was him who would end up on the receiving end of the woman's temper. Almost as quickly as the thought shot through his head, the boy was gone, and Retsu was glowering at him, acting almost as if she were his mother, which made Mayuri rather uncomfortable.

"What were you doing?" she demanded, poking him in the chest with a finger.

He shrugged, now realizing that he was going to need more than just an Aspirin to kill off the buzzing pain. "Don't give me that look," he said, taking a step back. "You know damn well that I had nothing to do with this." Mayuri turned and muttered some dark curses under his breath.

Retsu's eyes seemed to widen, if at all possible, at his statement. "I _saw_ you! I heard what you said! How can you say that you had nothing to do with this? Clearly, you're involved, otherwise that nice boy wouldn't have sunk to your level!" She was clearly trying to intimidate him, which was all but impossible as she couldn't even bring herself to shout.

"Quibbles!" Mayuri retorted, waving a hand as if to dismiss her words.

She turned on him, shaking her head as she strolled down the street and up to the apartment complex, not once looking back. As she went, leaving Mayuri to stare after her, a smirk on his face. Even if the woman didn't have the courage to shout at him, her nerve was sincerely impressive. Perhaps, if she had been more abrasive whilst in the Soul Society, he would have taken notice of her much sooner.

* * *

><p>Onward to chapter ten!<p> 


	10. That Sinking Feeling

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 10: **That Sinking Feeling

**A/N: **This is where the rating kicks in. The lemon section is the at the very end, but everything else is entirely safe. Skipping over the end section won't drastically affect the storyline, so you won't really be missing anything.

* * *

><p>There was no surprise when he'd slipped through the door, caught in dark silence as Retsu shot him a disapproving glare. Although she'd done him a favor by getting rid of the Quincy boy, he still didn't appreciate her treating him like a child. Especially because she was starting to act like his mother. As if he needed <em>that<em>. It was irrational and stupid for her to cast the blame on him, as he'd been the one assaulted. But it didn't matter now. Although she was a healer, she had made no remark as to his aching shoulder and bruised jaw. But he knew better. Her healer's touch and undying compassion would show up again sooner or later.

Even if she were to ignore him for the next several hours, he would be able to easily amuse himself by catching her furious glances that were still flying across the room.

But Mayuri wasn't stupid. He knew when she was glowering at him and when she was staring with longing in her eyes. Now that there was a spark of interest, on both ends, no less, she wouldn't be able to resist. Practiced as she was when dealing with emotion, he doubted that her control, which had been put into practice long before his captaincy, would outlast his own. Eventually, she'd break, putting him back in control of the dangerous game they'd started playing.

He wouldn't once deny the rumors that he was obsessed with power, for they were true. It was far more interesting to be the one pulling the strings than to be the stupid little marionette. Even an idiot like Kisuke had figured out that much. But the shopkeeper wasn't the one involved here. Mayuri had been wondering, for several days now, how long it would take for this woman to crack, to show the new colors that she'd taken a shine to.

More than that, he wanted to be there when Ukitake discovered the change in her. The man had preached to him about decency, clearly refusing to believe that one as pure as Retsu could remain untainted. But he had failed to realize that one of Mayuri's specialties was weeding out secrets. He grinned, reveling in the expression that the sickly captain would be wearing upon discovering the plan Mayuri had brought to the table.

The end of this game was one thing that he was seriously looking forward to.

But, without all the players, the game couldn't very well progress. And _that _was a problem. He'd have to figure out a way to get Retsu to play along. Not knowingly, of course. Were she to discover his scheme, she would surely pull at the strings, unraveling that which had already been woven. But the question was _how _to get her involved without letting her _know_ she was involved.

**# - # - #**

The omens were dark, indeed. A sure sign that something was amiss. It was strange that such a thought had passed through his head, as Jushiro wasn't usually one who believed in omens. But he desperately wanted to believe that Retsu wasn't going to take the fool's path, which he couldn't be sure of due to her insistent nature at breakfast. She had openly expressed her trust in Mayuri, which sincerely made the white-haired captain fret even more. After her departure from the restaurant, he had been unable to keep his mind from wandering, thinking about the train she was throwing herself in front of. Retsu was a strong woman, capable of holding her own, but that alone didn't make her immune to emotion and impulses.

Everything was telling him that this was wrong; that nothing good could come of this. Had he known that things would have turned out this way, he never would have allowed Retsu to leave the Soul Society. At least, not with a raging psychopath as her sole companion.

He grimaced, trying to assure himself that Retsu would be fine. Nothing that could happen _would_ happen, for she was usually a no-nonsense person. Jushiro mentally kicked himself for having thought such things. About either of them. His friend was capable of handling herself, as she had easily handled several rowdy members of Kenpachi's division in the past. Fools and lunatics had no affect on a woman like Retsu. As for Kurotsuchi, Jushiro sincerely hated the man, but he didn't think that he'd go _that _far. It was strange, imagining something like that. Such actions didn't fit the persona of the introverted bastard.

Jushiro shook his head, throwing himself onto a park bench as he continued lecturing himself. It was unsightly to think that way, not to mention horrid. They were polar opposites, but Jushiro didn't really believe that they would end up like that, no matter what the humans said about "opposites attract." He leaned his head back, breathing deeply. Rationality was slowly being drowned out by anxiety, which was unacceptable. It was crucial that he keep his head above the water, so as to avoid acting solely upon impulse.

_You're over-complicating things_, he told himself, catching onto the scent of freshly ground coffe. _Nothing's going to happen. Even if he _did _go that far, Retsu wouldn't stand for it. She wouldn't sink to such a level. She's just too good for that..._

**# - # - #**

Retsu couldn't very well say that she hadn't seen this coming. From the start, she should have known better than to house herself, alone, with a man. Especially when said man was the one who had created her gigai, which made disarming it child's play for him. In all honesty, she couldn't have anticipated that things would go so far. She had expected to be professional about the whole thing from the second the idea had struck her. Or, at least, as professional as one could be while treating the man she was suddenly attracted to. If someone had told her two weeks ago that she would end up in this situation, and with Mayuri, she would have believed that person to be seriously troubled.

A part of her wished that she hadn't proposed the idea of a vacation to him; that she'd gone on her own, or perhaps with Nanao and Isane. And yet, there was something that just felt right. She'd clearly done something that had altered his usually rash behavior. If anything, she supposed that she'd done at least one thing right.

At first, she'd been mad as hell at him for daring to jeopardize their situation by provoking the Quincy child. Had things taken a wrong turn, he could have ended up at the police station, mouthing off and creating more problems than she'd like to deal with. Had she stepped in sooner, before Uryu had gone so far as to catch Mayuri in the jaw, then perhaps she wouldn't be in this situation. But maybe it was for the best. If anything, she'd always believed that the man needed some serious social interaction, as he was rather reclusive. At least he had actually tried to communicate with her, even if it had, for the most part, been some game.

Now, she was all but screaming, almost melting into the floor as he stared down at her with those dark eyes. She hated it, this feeling of being caught on a string; this feeling of being under his control. But that was what he'd wanted. She could read it in his movements, his face, everything. It happened so fast, leaving no time for actions to be planned out. Blood pulsed through her veins at breakneck speed, forcing her heart to pound relentlessly against her chest. Somehow, their bodies had ended up tangled, all senses of rationality or propriety abandoned. She had closed her eyes, as if looking away would absolve her of such sins. A jolt shot through her as she found herself running her hands across him, tracing the self-inflicted scars that ran in every direction. She'd always thought that such disregard for one's body was sinful, but having been granted the chance to explore, she had withdrawn such opinions.

But now, she was clearly in no position to judge. She was now a sinner herself.

She flinched, nails piercing his sides as she felt hands at her throat, teeth nipping and biting until she could just shatter. Anticipation took over as her hair came undone, splaying itself across the carpet. Against all promptings in her head, Retsu ran a hand through his hair, pulling his face closer. She didn't want to look, but curiosity won over. He was now hesitant, the wicked gleam having vanished, leaving question in its wake.

Her eyes closed, skin cold and trembling even as his own body warmed her. She had already gone against everything she knew to be proper, as she had allowed him to defile her in more ways than one. Quietly, she moved, hand reaching up to pull his face closer to hers. Upon opening her eyes, Retsu noted the obvious discomfort reflected in his own. She smiled gently, planting her lips where the Quincy had struck him. Confusion, on his part, was understandable. She worked her lips closer to his own, placing a hand against his chest to steady him before. slipping her tongue between his teeth. At first, he taste in her mouth was sour, causing her to flinch. Perhaps this was what sin tasted like. And she was indulging herself in it.

Retsu felt herself smiling, soft vibrations from his chest reaching her cold fingers as he overpowered her, forcing her back to the floor. Although he was violent by nature, she never would have expected such ferocity at a time like this. Slowly, she was beginning to unravel the strings the tied this man together.

* * *

><p>Onward!<p> 


	11. The Feeling is Mutual

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 11: **The Feeling is Mutual

**A/N: **I threw more lemon in here. Avert your eyes from the second section if if bothers you.

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><p>When Retsu had failed to contact him by noon, Jushiro had grown worried. She had promised to meet with him by ten, and had failed to do so. Wild thoughts spun through his head as he darted down the street, ignoring the people who stopped and stared. Retsu, and her safety, was his highest priority right now. There was no time to run around town to track down Shunsui and, quite believably, drag him from whatever brothel he'd spent the night playing "games" at. That much could wait until later.<p>

Jushiro stormed up the metal steps, taking them two at a time, ignoring the neighbors below who came outside, shielding their eyes from the morning sun as they shouted at him to keep it down. He banged on the door, heart pounding in his ears like that of a big bass drum. Eyes widened as he continued to pound against the flaking gray paint, body trembling with fear, anger, and weakness. The captain fell to his knees, another fit of heaving coughs having overcome him. In all the confusion, he'd continuously forgotten to medicate each day, further worsening his fragile condition. He grimaced, wiping away that blood that had pooled in his hand.

At all costs, he had to get in.

His eyes darted immediately to the window, noting that the blinds were closed. Even the motion-sensitive light above the door was off. The white-haired captain frowned, slamming an elbow through the window, his ears deaf to the shouts that continued to follow him from the floor below. Pushing aside the blinds, he climbed inside, kicking away the shards of broken glass as he crouched on the windowsill. His eyes scanned the room, hopeful that he wouldn't find Retsu's corpse staining the carpet.

Having heard no sound, he slipped inside, almost anticipating an attack. His eye caught sight of movement on the couch, and he moved like a blizzard, yanking away the blanket to find the shirtless bastard staring up at him with tired eyes. Jushiro felt his body stiffen with rage as he noted the various scrapes and marks that littered the man's torso. Marks that didn't come from his "hobby" of self-experimentation. He shook his head, staring in disbelief. Now, he knew that his suspicions had been correct.

It was a serious blow when the captain ignored him, pointing back into the kitchen where Retsu stood in her nightclothes, eyes set upon Jushiro. He scoffed, shaking his head at her in disbelief and disgust as he turned on her and headed back outside. He couldn't even look at her, let alone open his mouth to speak. It wasn't so much anger as it was disappointment. She'd promised not to do anything stupid, and there she was, defending the cretin who had defiled her. Jushiro sighed, slapping a hand over his eyes. He should have known better than to meddle in Retsu's affairs; should have known that _he _would be the one to get hurt.

"You're upset," he heard her say, the sound of the closing door making him flinch.

Jushiro shook his head, hand playing idly with the zipper of his jacket. Yes, he was upset, but it wasn't his place to allow his own emotions to interfere. She had made her decision, and he'd be damned to hell if he allowed himself to guilt her into going back. Through all of his interference, against the warnings of his conscience, he'd been the one to end up with knife in his heart. And he had no one to blame but himself.

He faced her, trying desperately to smile. "It's not my place to say," he replied. "What you do is your business, not mine. I can't say that I'm pleased with this, but I'm not your parent. I can't tell you what to do with your life or who to love."

Retsu nodded, placing a gentle kiss upon his cheek before retreating indoors.

Jushiro laughed quietly to himself as he descended the stairs, turning back only to look guiltily at the damage he'd done. Material things could easily be replaced, but Retsu's trust, which he'd cast aside in a moment of anger, would take much more time to repair.

**# - # - #**

She leaned against the door, breath caught in her throat, heart pounding wildly. It was infuriating that Jushiro had gone so far as to break in, and, at the same time, completely humiliating. No doubt he thought her to be vile for consorting with a man whom he believed to be the devil incarnate. The look on his face had been like a knife in the back, stemming fear and pain within her presently fragile mind. Were she to tell him that she had acted upon impulse, he surely wouldn't believe it. He would sooner choose to believe that she'd been assaulted. Her pristine reputation for thinking everything through would have assured that much.

A heavy sigh escaped pale lips, earning her an aggravated, and somewhat disapproving, laugh from her partner. Against her better judgment, she allowed herself a glance, noting the irate way he stared at her. If anything, he had probably overheard what little she'd said to Jushiro, deciding to go about hating the man in silence. She crossed the room, perching herself on the floor by the table, head in her hands. Her actions weren't what had brought tears to her eyes, but the knowledge that Jushiro had found out. Had he simply stayed out of it, she would have been able to maintain a believable facade, keeping his own tender heart safe from this pain.

Sensation pulsed through her, Mayuri's hand around her waist, earnestly reeling her in. Myriads of thoughts and memories swam through her head, some urging her to continue and give in while others warned against it. Now that she had fallen, there was little reason to heed the warnings of the voices that spoke out against her. It was now too late to ascend again. Her resolve had already been elucidated and justified long before Jushiro had arrived. She had slipped into ecstasy, a new incentive burning through her. Without meaning to, she had become hedonistic, losing sight of what it was she used to live for.

She had grown immune, suddenly apathetic to everything that was going on. There was no feeling as he handled her, hands grazing sensitive skin. It was all a blur, a big black hole without a bottom to catch her. All that she had once enshrined, judgment, morals, purity, had been crushed in a matter of moments. A part of her cried out, blaming the darkness in his heart for corrupting her. But everything else said otherwise. _She _had made the decision, allowing herself to partake of that which was forbidden. She was disembodied now, falling, lost and forgetting what it meant to be who she was; who she had been before all this.

He, on the other hand, seemed insouciant to the mass hysteria that was brimming beneath the surface of her mind. Perhaps that's what it would be like for her to lose all sense of who she'd been. To be cast into the dark, hated by others, looked down upon as a heretic with no room for indignation or justification. She would, inevitably, find herself meandering through the world, trying to find something to hold to once more. But maybe that wasn't how it had been for him. Perhaps he'd been this way all along.

Having come this far, seeking to unwrap secrets in both their hearts, it would be foolish to back away now. The untainted path was behind her now, the bridge having burned to cinders as she'd crossed. All that was left was to live in this surreal world, this place that seemed both too good and dark to be real. She flinched, hand reaching up to stop the sanguine trail that had started its way down her chin. A half-smile formed upon her lips, hands fussing with her hair as if it would make a difference.

If there was anything she hated about this man, this devil, she'd become drawn to, it was his torturous way of doing things. He had a bad habit of drawing out his practice, something she'd both seen and experienced. He would toy with the target, tormenting it before forcing it into complete submission. And she was no exception. She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his, teasing him, as his hands slipped through her robe, earning a light gasp. Green eyes widened, shocked when he'd caught her, tongues dancing like koi fish in a clear blue pond.

With a smile, she pulled away, laughing quietly as she managed to elicit a distasteful growl from him. She leaned forward, slipping her tongue between his lips, pulling back so as to tease him. To her, it was painfully obvious that he was long-since used to getting his way, as few had dared to refuse him even the most unethical of requests. But she was not the first, and she certainly wouldn't be the one laughing for long, as the look in his eye conveyed to her that he simply wouldn't stand for it.

Retsu wished, with everything in her, that he'd somehow wash away the trail of fears that had formed within her mind, torturing her. If anyone knew torture, and how to combat it, Mayuri was certainly the man to ask. But she wouldn't. She would remain silent, delivering the message through actions alone. She gasped, her mouth clinging to his as sensation shot through her, his hands working her with an unexpectedly gentle touch. It was heaven and hell all at once, wrapped in one neat little package that she had been chosen to receive.

Against everything she had told herself, Retsu felt herself gasp into his mouth, willing herself not to scream at his touch. It was an addiction now, and she'd been caught, the hooks having buried themselves within her. It was frightening, this need, even more than it had been the first time. Maintaining her grip on him, she allowed their positions to be reversed, her arms wrapped around his neck in a vice grip.

She was shaking now, oblivious to the taste of blood and red wine that danced across her tongue. When exactly he'd taken up a taste for wine was beyond her, as she'd never once seen him drinking, but the thought was thrown swiftly into the fire as the wave hit the shore, driving her to an emotional state that she'd sworn to avoid. It was all a craving now, throwing her senses into overdrive. Fingers curling in his hair, trying to convince herself to keep breathing. She quivered, one hand slipping behind her back to lift her while the other danced torturous trails across her body.

It couldn't stop, she decided. She didn't want it to stop. Now, in this instant, everything seemed right. The world, and her heart, were both at peace.

**# - # - #**

Sitting in one place, watching and waiting with little to keep him occupied, was torture at its finest. There was a strict limit to how long he could sit still without doing anything; a limit which had been reached several minutes ago. If he had to watch anything, he'd much rather it be some test subject squirming in agony. Ten days in the human realm hadn't changed that. And, if he couldn't have that, then he'd be more than happy to watch Retsu do something interesting. Something that _wasn't _shopping. It had been her brilliant idea to have a day out on the town, and she had left him no room to argue about more... entertaining things. Of course, he wouldn't have minded much if she'd kept her distance instead of plastering herself to his arm.

If anything, her "brilliant" idea had come from guilt. She needed something, aside from him, to distract her from the hell instilled into her by the bastard with the bleeding heart. It _had _to be guilt, as she could barely even look at him without cringing. By sticking around, she was advocating their actions by slowly drowning herself in poison. She was trying to suffocate herself to drown out the screams in her heart. So far, she'd chosen him to be the anesthetic.

Although their interest in each other was now mutual, he was seriously starting to wonder if he'd pushed the game too far. Fortunately, he wasn't bothered by something so inept as guilt. He was oblivious to the entire matter, having decided to just go with whatever the hell happened.

The hopelessly mundane things the humans indulged in were purely ridiculous. They hurried about, weighing themselves down with whatever useless things caught their eye. Such simple creatures. The only thing that was more irritating than that, was the small group of children who, for whatever reason, had decided to follow him around, constantly asking for candy. This brought about another speculation, one that involved human adults and what the hell they taught their brats, if anything, about wandering around like filthy little beggars in shopping centers. That, and the godawful collared shirt she'd forced upon him. The kind that choked the living hell out of him. She had insisted that it made him look like less of a delinquent. But he knew better. She was just trying to hide her "handiwork" from the prying eyes of humans.

Fortunately, the little monsters that had been hounding him were easily appeased by Retsu as she returned. Her kind smile and words encouragement sent them scurrying off to their parents. She smiled, a real change given her dark mood before, giving Mayuri a look that seemed to wonder if he hated children. Considering the hell that Zaraki's stupid brat had put him through, what with breaking things and invading his privacy, he'd have to say yes. He hated children with a passion.

"Aww! Look how cute!" a voice chirped as Retsu disappeared into another shop. "Mayurin's gone and got himself a little _girlfriend_! How sweet!"

The captain grimaced, turning to slap the stupid striped had off the idiot's head. The man laughed, bringing to life the urge to drive something through the bastard's skull. More than anything, he _hated _that name. It was what the brat called him on a regular basis, as she was too stupid to remember much of anything. It was a bloody miracle she even remembered her own damn name. Now, aside from having been harassed by children, there was yet another problem hovering over his shoulder, making stupid faces and comments that were enough to force a sane man to commit murder.

"_Go away_," he hissed darkly, slapping the shopkeeper's hat away again. "You're annoying."

Kisuke, who was now sitting smugly on the floor in front of the captain, smiled widely, laughing as he spoke. "You're embarrassed! Well, I"ll be damned! Never thought I'd see the day that you, of all people, would be so easily humiliated. Especially by something as good as this."

Mayuri's eyes widened as he stood, hands closing around Kisuke's throat. There was no way to explain how the bastard had found out about the previous night unless, god forbid, he'd somehow been watching. The idea alone was more than a reason for Mayuri to massacre the man right then and there. He scowled, shoving the grinning idiot away as a hand rested itself upon his shoulder. He shook his head, turning away in fury as Retsu began chiding the man about the dangers of bothering people and snooping about their private affairs.

"Mr. Urahara," she began, causing Mayuri to roll his eyes at the title. As if Kisuke even deserved it. "I'm not sure of everything you two were talking about, but I don't appreciate you inserting yourself into personal matters." Yeah_, talking. _As if he'd sink so low as to associate himself with such an inconsequential moron."And, furthermore..."

Unable to take the staring, and Kisuke's idiot grin, any longer, Mayuri grabbed Retsu by the arm, ignoring her protests as he practically dragged her out the door. Even with the smug bastard far from his reach, as he would have gladly gutted the man, Mayuri could still see that stupid grin plastered on the shopkeeper's face. All the more reason to _not _look back...

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><p>Didn't think that this would take a week.<p> 


	12. Love and Death

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 12: **Love and Death

* * *

><p>Everything had changed in an instant. The sky spun in dizzying circles overhead, screams sounded in the streets, and blood pulsed violently through a shattered body, staining the black gravel an even darker color. Whispers could be heard, but all were irrelevant, the words jumbled and nonsensical. The main focus was to stop the bleeding, to prolong a life, if at all possible. Without the proper tools and anesthetics, to stop the child's screams and pain, the task was proving difficult, grating on her already strained nerves. Stress began to set in, her eyes clamping shut as she pressed firmly upon the worst of the child's wounds, praying that the paramedics would soon arrive. Now, in the suffocating ambience, Retsu felt that she was the one dying what with precious fluids slipping through her fingers.<p>

It wasn't surprising that she was going this alone, as many of those standing by were wide-eyed when she'd arrived while on her way back to the apartment. What had sincerely bothered her was the nearly psychotic glint in Mayuri's eye as he'd stared down at the screaming boy, almost as if the child were some kind of test subject. Now that she wasn't entrenched in blissful emotions, the likes of which she missed at the moment, the idea that he tortured living things and called it a practice was sickening, even if she did have feelings for him.

Had Jushiro been present, he certainly would have given her a hand. But he had departed the previous evening, stopping by only to apologize for his behavior, his errands for Rukia having been completed at last. Abruptly, the boy's thrashing ceased as the sirens drew nearer, causing her eyes to open, absorbing the horrific sight before her. The child's own eyes were now wide, red from crying, but unmoving. His breathing had also stopped, the blood flow having died down significantly.

Retsu shook her head, pressing her bloodied hands to her mouth to stop the scream that was sure to come. She leaned forward in a frenzy, pressing down upon the boy's chest in an attempt to get him breathing again. A scream sounded from behind her, presumably the boy's mother, a single name being uttered again and again, throwing a knife into Retsu's bleeding heart. The sound of her own name being spoken went unnoticed, her fear expanding into full-blown panic. The sensation of a hand pulling her back was unwelcome, her own flying back to smack it away. In turn, he grabbed her, forcibly yanking her away as the paramedics arrived, either to rush the child to the hospital or to pronounce him dead on the scene.

The mother's screams expressed her own quiet rage; the fury and sorrow that had silently slipped into her conscious mind. Flashing lights were drowned out by the sight of the still body being lifted into the ambulance. She turned, cringing at the bloodied front of car that had sent an innocent child to his death. The fact that the world was cruel had certainly crossed her mind from time to time, but she'd never really dwelt upon it, having chosen to think on more enlightening and uplifting things. But as it was now staring her in the face, Retsu couldn't help thinking about it.

Still immobilized by sorrow and the iron grip around her waist, Retsu could only watch as the mother of the child climbed inside the ambulance, her hand resting tenderly on her son's broken body. Her eyes, red and filled with tears, turned to meet Retsu's, silent gratitude present as the doors closed. Retsu grimaced, turning away from the scene. There was nothing more to see, let alone to do. It was strange how upset she was over this, as the boy would be fine in the Soul Society. She attributed her emotions to the absence of her practice; healing the sick and wounded, comforting the dying. If anything, her vacation had, at least in this instance, backfired.

As the ambulance slowly pulled away, Retsu was shocked to find herself being seated on a bench, Mayuri's cold gaze on her. She looked away, ignoring the obvious demand that she listen to him. What was the point? So he could berate her about the dangers of trying to heal a broken and dying child? She shook her head, wishing, for the first time in a long time, that he'd just shut up. If there had been no one around, she was certain that he would have taken the liberty of doing something horrid and inhumane, all in the name of his self-righteous research and curiosity. And, despite that, she was somehow being made out as the fool.

"I don't want to hear it," she said, leaning against the back of the bench. The scent of blood still lingered in the air, bringing tears to her eyes. "I don't care if he's fine. He should be here with his mother. Not alone in the Soul Society."

Retsu trembled, eyes suddenly drawn to the sight of the boy's blood on the street as the police began questioning bystanders. Although she wasn't one herself, she knew that it was wrong for a parent to have to bury their child. That, and painful. It must have been a hellish experience for all those who had lived through it, far worse than any torturous fate the world could have handed over. She shook her head, eyes never leaving the scene. It was cold now as the wind began to blow, and everything was just miserable.

"I want to leave," she whispered, hand tightening around his wrist. "I want to go back... To go home. I'm tired of all this."

The realization of what she'd said was like a train wreck in her head. If they were to leave now, not only would they be questioned, but she'd have to face Jushiro again. And everything that had been established would crumble and fall apart. Such a secret wouldn't last very long in the Soul Society. They would be found out, and that was the last thing either of them wanted. Even so, it was probably better that way. Her head would, hopefully, be cleared of all these distracting thoughts, emotions, and memories, and life would return to normal. A miserable choice, but living in agony was far better than being caught or sentenced for overstaying in the World of the Living. Were there any other way, she would gladly take it, just to extend the hedonistic lifestyle she'd fallen into. It was mindless self-indulgence at its finest, but it was real. At least, it was for her.

She wanted to apologize for cutting things so short, just after having shone a light into the darkest portion of his soul. But her conscience, her desire to dull the pain, wouldn't let her. Instead, she settled for shedding tears as she leaned into his shoulder, soft smile creeping across her face as his arm wrapped around her. This, she assumed, would be the last time. They would leave, and everything would go back to being uneventful.

Trying to imagine things as they had been was nearly impossible. The faces she saw were all familiar: those of her subordinates, her patients, her friends. But the absence of his was almost painful. She would have to return to rebuilding that pristine reputation, so as to appease Jushiro, and Mayuri would go back to being the heartless bastard he'd always been, content with life behind a mask that only she had been able to remove.

Going back would be like heading into her own personal brand of hell. To everyone else, the world would go on, unchanged; almost as if she'd never been gone. But for her, there would be no focus, no sincere desire to aid others. Just her own overwhelming selfishness and woe. Both of which could easily lead to her downfall. But what choice was there? Either way, this unexpected dream would come to an end. Best to take the easier path, even if it meant suffering. The next few hours would be the last, hopefully giving her just enough time to answer the question that repeated in her head:

_Is this really what you want?_

**# - # - #**

There was no worse assignment than the one he'd just been given. Fury was radiating from him in waves, ensuring that he'd have a clear path to the Fourth, Twelfth, and Thirteenth Divisions. He would have to question both lieutenants, and speak to Jushiro Ukitake regarding his own encounter with the man in the World of the Living. Both tasks, although a part of the same order, were miserable, as Kenpachi could think of many more entertaining ways to spend the rest of the afternoon. The two most appealing pastimes being a long nap and a cold bottle of sake with Ikkaku.

He grimaced, noting the tiny hands glomming onto his haori, little feet pressed firmly into his back. The sound of jingling bells echoed in his ear as his lieutenant, now perched upon his shoulder like a little monkey, tugged at his hair, humming a little song as she went. He didn't mind bringing her along if she kept herself quiet and busy. The last thing he needed was for Yachiru to poke her nose into a matter that had nothing to do with her.

"Where are we going, Kenny?" she chirped, her hands clinging to the sides of his head as she stood up. "We going to the pool?"

Kenpachi rolled his eyes, having half a mind to send Yachiru to bother Ikkaku or Yumichika. For the past week, she'd been begging to go swimming with him, and, each time, he'd managed to formulate another excuse that would keep her appeased until early the next morning. And now, after having used every pathetic lie he could muster, the captain was seriously starting to doubt that he'd be able to talk himself our of this. He turned down the street, crossing the bridge to Ukitake's Ugendo quarters, ushering Yachiru to go and feed the koi fish that she'd stolen from Byakuya's garden.

Her obsession with the brightly colored fish would give him some extra time to create yet another story.

Looking back to ensure that Yachiru was kept busy, the captain raised a hand to knock on the door, stopping when it opened for Jushiro to step out. His haggard appearance and the blood on his hands was no surprise given the fact that he had deteriorated within the last day or so. The white-haired captain grimaced, shielding his green eyes from the unrelenting rays of the sun. Kenpachi stared down at the man in silence, barely noticing the grin on his face as Yachiru shouted a greeting. Raising his hand, he smiled at her, closing the door behind him as he stepped out into the blue day, coughing quietly into his sleeve.

"I was told you'd be here," Jushiro commented, quiet eyes staring across the pond. "Something about Retsu and Kurotsuchi?"

Kenpachi snorted at the bastard's name, nodding quietly as his mind reeled with questions. Why the hell a woman like Unohana would drag that freak Kurotsuchi on some god-awful trip was beyond him. But, he supposed, so long as the man was miserable, it wasn't really any of his concern. If anything, he sure as hell loved watching the bastard's temper flare out of control. He turned, noting that Jushiro was staring at him, waiting for an answer.

Again, the captain snorted, watching Yachiru as she slipped and fell into the pond, a large golden koi having evaded her grasp. "The report came in about an hour ago," Kenpachi finally muttered, arms folded across his chest. "A human child by the name of Yukio Moritaka was killed in Eastern Karakura at around ten this morning. From what the old bastard said, both Unohana and Kurotsuchi were present. No fuckin' surprise with him..."

"And?" The look in Jushiro's eyes was anxious, his face having grown pale, hands trembling in anticipation. "What does Retsu have to do with this?"

Kenpachi sighed, rolling his eyes as Yachiru crawled out of the pond, rolling around in the dirt to dry herself. "There was report of a witness who claims to have seen Unohana handling the child at the time of death," he said, eyes focused on his lieutenant. "And, from the evidence that's been gathered, it's likely that she'll stand trial for murder."

Jushiro's eyes widened significantly as he rose to his feet. "That's impossible!" he shouted, shaking his head. "She'd never do such a thing!"

Abruptly, the man collapsed in a fit of coughing, oblivious to the eyes that were upon him. Kenpachi grimaced, irritated at his comrade's outburst. "Believe whatever the hell ya want to, Ukitake," he grimaced, crouching to pull Yachiru out of the dirt. "If it upsets ya that much, then take it up with the old man. I'm only following orders, as tedious and fucking ridiculous as they are. But," Kenpachi turned back, noting the blood that had pooled on the ground before the white-haired captain. "If ya ask me, the so-called witness is spouting a load of shit. If anyone killed that kid, my money's on that bastard Kurotsuchi."

**# - # - #**

It was disconcerting, watching in silence as she stared through the glass, bloodied hand pressed against it as if she could heal the boy's broken body just by willing it. In that instance, she was a fool, clinging to a hope that had already been burned to cinders. She had insisted, through a flood of bitter tears, that she had to see the child once more, just in case he had miraculously survived. It was a stupid notion, but he'd kept that opinion quiet, suddenly having second thoughts about further tormenting her. For being so brilliant, he had been horrendously outmatched by the puzzle she had presented to him, succumbing to irrationality and emotion. A flaw that had severely warped Mayuri's image of himself.

From a game, it had turned into a puzzle, and from there, into some deep-seated attraction that refused to retreat. It was confusing and irritating, not knowing every aspect of one's own mind. He'd been fooled, not only by this woman, but by himself. And that rankled. Now, he was stuck in the damned hospital, forced to listen to her constant whimpering and words of apology to one who couldn't even hear her. If he didn't care, he would have headed out to find someplace quiet to think. But that wast the most pressing issue. He actually found that he gave a damn.

He grimaced, the buzzing Soul Pager in his pocket having become bothersome. Golden eyes stared down at the screen, surprised to see the message that had been delivered. His gaze darted to Retsu, her hands still lingering on the glass as the nurse slipped out of the room to deliver the news. Even without hearing what the woman had to say, Mayuri knew damn well that the boy was dead. He'd been nothing more than spare meat the instant his mother had started her annoying screeching. But the child's condition and cause of death were both largely irrelevant. The instant the nurse vanished, Mayuri went to Retsu's side, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her down the hall, ignoring her violent protests.

"You can't just _ask_ to speak with me?" she hissed, tears strolling down her face. "Is it really that difficult for you?"

She was acting on impulse again, but this side of her wasn't nearly as attractive as what he'd seen before. Anger didn't suit her in the slightest. Normally, he wouldn't have admitted as much, even to himself, but the situation had taken a turn for the worse, worrying him. The words that had flashed across the screen were now burned into his head, presenting themselves to Retsu as a rather bitter scowl on his part. She stared up at him, anger having dissipated into concern. Her hands slid around his shoulders, embracing him as she urged him to share what was bothering him. Even had he wanted to, Mayuri would have remained silent. It was best that she didn't know of the hell they'd fallen into.

Her lips slid up his throat, begging for any shred of information. He pushed her back, confusion manifesting in her eyes. He'd screwed up, dragging her into this without thought. Accidents of this sort were exactly what ruined weeks of work, throwing precious time out the window. He stared at her in silence, hand resting awkwardly upon her shoulder, a bitter tang in his mouth.

"Sorry," he muttered, hating the way the word tasted as it slipped out. "But you can't go back. You can _never _go back."

Retsu's face contorted in shock as she backed away from his touch, leaning against the wall. She shook her head, eyes wide as she spoke. "I don't understand," she whispered, a quaver in her voice. "Tell me that you're lying; that this is a joke. You can't mean that..."

Mayuri scowled, pinning her to the wall, hand pressed against her forehead. "If only that were true."

* * *

><p>The apology was slightly out there, but it's crucial.<p> 


	13. Trial

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 13: **Trial

* * *

><p>It had been difficult running the division on her own, despite the instructions Captain Unohana had left behind. The time since her departure had been short, but it had passed by far too slowly for Isane's liking. When news reached her that the captain would be returning early, she had been overjoyed. She had taken the utmost care to ensure that everything was in place, and that each patient was comfortable and accounted for. Unfortunately, there had been some losses due to infectious disease, and the young lieutenant was unsure as to how she might go about explaining such a thing to her captain. Although Captain Unohana was the embodiment of kindness, Isane felt horrid guilt in knowing that she'd failed, even slightly. More than anything, she admired her captain, and had worked hard to live up to such a role model.<p>

When Hanataro had run through the gates, shouting that their captain was to return at any moment, Isane had dropped everything and followed him, still trying to decide what to say first. The crowd that had gathered at the Senkaimon was far larger than she would have expected. Captains Kuchiki and Zaraki were present, both sporting rather grim expressions. The latter of the two had rested a hand on the hilt of his blade, clenching his teeth in anger. Had she enough courage to speak, she surely would have asked what was wrong. But her captain was coming back, and that was all that mattered. She could go back to her regular duties after this, requesting advice from her captain in times of doubt.

When the gate had opened, Isane had been expecting to see her captain, refreshed and well-rested thanks to some much-needed time off. Instead, she had been met with a set of cold eyes, the likes of which she would have known anywhere. Her captain, meanwhile, was nowhere to be seen. She had gasped as Captain Zaraki stepped forward, spouting off various strings of curses, only to be met with a snide comment that, far too easily, insulted his low grade of intelligence. Isane hadn't stuck around long enough to see or hear anything more. A question was running rampant through her head as she darted through the Seireitei, hellbent on reaching the First Division in order to ascertain what had happened to her captain.

Now, she stood, out of breath, before the commander, his weathered features shifting slightly as he beckoned her closer with a withered hand. She was numb by now, tears strolling down her flushed face as her knees hit the floor, words coming out as little more than shudders and sobs. The steady thumping of the elderly man's cane reached her ears, but she was too far gone to pay it much mind. If her captain didn't come back, she would likely be thrown into the same fire as Lieutenants Hisagi, Hinamori, and Kira. Isane had seen how they had behaved after the revolt. All of them, namely Hinamori, had fallen out-of-touch with the world, taking up the duties that would have fallen upon their captains shoulders, drowning in confusion.

That wasn't what she wanted for herself.

She glanced up, having noticed the shadow that hung over her like a cloud, her eyes meeting those of the commander. Even through his thick beard, she could see that he was smiling at her, trying to offer up some kind of genuine reassurance. He took her by the hand, gently lifting her to her feet. There was no need to speak, as his eyes conveyed everything. He knew all that had happened, and he would be the one to make her worries vanish.

Isane felt her eyes widen as the doors slammed open, Captain Kurotsuchi growling and making threats to a smug-looking Captain Zaraki. She turned away, hands trembling as she forced them to her sides. Even if he did look like a man, Isane was sure that he wasn't. There were no morals, no ethics, no boundaries by which he lived. Everything, and everyone, was just something to be pulled apart. And there was little doubt in her mind that her captain had gone the same way.

**# - # - #**

"Ya lousy fucker," the Eleventh's captain drawled, arms folded over his broad chest as he leaned in the doorway. "Yer hidin' _somethin'_, aren't ya?"

Jushiro shook his head and rolled his eyes, irritated that his fellow captain would just come right out and say such a vulgar thing. Though, what with him not giving a damn about propriety, it was only to be expected. The white-haired captain grimaced, noting the grin on Mayuri's face. Jushiro knew exactly what was going through his head, and he hated it with a passion. Unfortunately, Kenpachi's remark had lit up his own imagination, the images he saw causing him to hang his head in defeat. Hands turned white as his fingers pressed into his palms with irritation. There really was such a thing as _too_ precise.

He sighed, still trying to cope with the fact that Retsu wouldn't change her mind. She was sweet, albeit one who commanded respect, but her stubbornness had always been a bit of a problem. Even as students at the academy, he had been unable to coerce her into anything, even something so minor as skipping out on studying to enjoy a night with friends. Now, so many years later, her obstinance posed quite a problem, and she was nowhere to be found. It was a curious thing, her sudden disappearance. And, although Jushiro was sure that the captain of the Twelfth was seriously involved in the situation, he couldn't bring himself to believe that the man would go so far as to harm Retsu in any way. A strange thought to have passed through his head, but the only one that sincerely made sense.

If anything, it seemed he was trying to keep her from being convicted.

"I take it you're both here for questioning," Mayuri replied, turning his back on the two as he settled into his chair. "Ask away."

The white-haired captain sighed, shuffling into the room, a fierce look on his face. Had he not been given orders to siphon the truth from this madman, Jushiro would have gone to find Retsu in the World of the Living himself, even if it meant breaking the law. He was trembling now, holding his breath so as to fight off the coughing fit that was sure to come. The last thing he needed, in so tense a moment, was to show weakness to the devil. Even if his suspicions were on target, he didn't want to take any chances. He glanced back to find Kenpachi rolling his eyes, a sickened scowl upon his face. Clearly, the man was losing patience, as he stepped forward, snorting as he stared down at the grinning man.

He hated this feeling. The ache of eagerness that tugged painfully at his heartstrings. The powerful desire to know with a certainty that she was safe. It was a terrible thing, fighting back the images that threatened to surface, driving him over the edge of the abyss. If anything, he had to maintain control. To remind himself that something here had changed. Something that, quite possibly, could be to Retsu's benefit. Over and over again, Jushiro forced himself to silently say that she _was _safe. That, somehow, she'd wormed her way into this madman's affections, smoothing out the jagged edges of his black heart. It was like a nightmare, the idea that she'd found solace within his arms, but it was far better than her being imprisoned for some crime that she couldn't have committed.

Amazingly, even his old teacher seemed to suspect that Retsu had done something wrong. But that probably had more to do with the evidence that had been presented against her. If, in fact, the elderly man _did _believe her to have broken the law, Jushiro would fight that belief, even if he were condemned and despised for it. He had put his trust in her, and, although her secret had put a dent in it, he was still willing to offer her what remained, even were he to be proven wrong. But that wasn't even a possibility. He just couldn't see her, a healer with a compassionate heart, taking the life of anyone, let alone a suffering child.

If anyone deserved such defending, it was her. She had always been one to remain on the straight and narrow path, never once wavering in her resolve or personal ethics. To be sure, she was one whose inner strength he admired. There was no comparison in the world that would do her justice, for she seemed to be the embodiment of purity, the likes of which shone light through the darkness. Perhaps this idea of his was far more than that. Perhaps she had managed to spread the kindness in her heart over a far greater distance; bridging the gap that separated the calm light from the unforgiving darkness; the stairway between the ground and the heavens.

Jushiro turned at the sound of Kenpachi's voice. A rather sour, "Ya son of a bitch" escaping his clenched teeth, bringing a frown to the white-haired captain's face. "Yer up to somethin', and I don't like it one fuckin' bit."

As the man turned, heading into the darkened hallway, Jushiro looked back at Mayuri, finding a contemplative scowl on his face. By the gods, Jushiro hoped he was right.


	14. Times of Suspicion

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 14: **Times of Suspicion

**A/N: **If it gets confusing, there's nothing to worry about. All questions will, eventually, be answered.

* * *

><p>She had improved significantly since his return, having clung almost desperately to the memento he had given her. As of late, her eyes weren't quite so clouded, and she smiled for the first time in, what felt like, an ice age. They were sweet and sincere, and she had managed to put one on as she visited him, almost on a daily basis. Today, however, was different. Rukia was deadly serious, even more than a fatal heart attack. Her gaze was hard, steady, and her arms, folded across her chest, made her seem three times as tall as she really was. And Jushiro, despite his position as her captain, was taken mildly aback by the shadows she cast over him.<p>

He pretended not to notice her, staring out over the pond as dawn finally arrived in all its warm glory. The clouds, it seemed, were unusually beautiful today. They were full, like budding blossoms in the early days of spring, and their color was like that of a gentle blush, caressed with just a hint of gold. Had he a brush and paper on hand, Jushiro would have leaped at the chance to capture such a magnificent sight. The signs, the whistling birds and sweet southern breeze, were telling him that this day would be beautiful, far more gorgeous than any he'd seen thus far.

Sadly, a hard smack across his face jarred him of these jovial emotions, his attention turning back to the scowling young woman who stood beside him. A cold hand made its way to his face, taking the stinging sensation away little by little. Her expression, however, remained unchanged. There was a strict demand in her eyes; one that could not be ignored without some form of physical punishment. In hopes of avoiding such a thing, he turned his body to face her, a gentle and understanding smile creeping across his lips. Clearly, she wanted to speak. And she had chosen him to listen.

"You look better," he laughed, offering her a seat. "It seems like ages since I last saw you this way. So full of life and energy."

"Hmm." Rukia's gaze softened slightly, a mild grin tugging at her fine features as she sat beside him, hands folded in her lap. The anger that she had held was now gone, replaced by complacency. Blue-gray eyes met his own, her mouth opening to speak. "I've done some thinking these past few days. Grieving over a loss, as major as it may be, is useless. All that can be reaped of such a thing is more pain. And I've had my fill."

The captain nodded in agreement, his hand coming to rest upon her lithe shoulder. "You oughtn't worry people like that," he chided quietly, the morning air chilling him. "There are many, namely your brother, who care and want to hear what you have to say... No matter what harsh circumstances stand to bar your path. You'd do well to remember that in the future."

A wave of guilt crashed over him, his eyes falling to the ground. There was no room for him to talk. In his own time, he'd faced many challenges, and had chosen to remain silent, shouldering the burden alone. The events at hand in particular. Not once had he thought to vent his feelings as they consumed him, gnawing holes in his heart. Now, as Rukia had done, he was bleeding in silence, curious as to whether or not things would ever take a turn for the better. But, when thinking on it, there was always a way up, even when the pit seemed to have hidden the light at the top. Of course, there was always a way down, too, as the bottom could easily be taken out from beneath one's feet if they allowed it.

"You have no room to tell me such things," Rukia laughed, looking at him with raised eyebrows. "Everyone's been talking, you know. I've heard that you've, quite surprisingly, shirked your duties since your return. That's not at all like you, Captain." Eyes still on him, she leaned forward, resting her elbows against her knees. "Since you're so kind as to give such good advice, perhaps you'd like to apply it to yourself?"

Jushiro smiled, acknowledging that she'd caught him in his own web. His words had been sincere, but he hadn't considered to heed them himself. And that made him quite the hypocrite. The captain sighed, hair falling gingerly over his shoulder, his chin resting in the palm of a hand as he spoke: "I suddenly feel like I'm in one of those group therapy classes," he joked, earning himself a serious glance from his subordinate. "I'm concerned. Something unexpected, something I never dreamed of, has happened. And now, I don't know what to do..."

Her silence indicated that she wouldn't press him for specifics, for which he was grateful. Now, it seemed that some pressure had been lifted from his heavy heart, sending shocks of relief through his system. Even with such a vague description of his inner turmoil, he felt happier, somehow. As if he were a child once again, being told by a loving parent that, despite the day's troubles, the sun would rise again, bringing life and love to a new day, a blank slate.

A rustle in the trees drew his attention as Kiyone and Sentaro appeared, suddenly dulling Jushiro's mood. He felt very betrayed by the fact that they had, so readily, appeared. Even if there was just a chance of them having overheard his conversation, he still had to know for sure.

"How long have you two been listening?" he asked hesitantly, mind laying out the answer beforehand.

Sentaro, having pushed Kiyone to the side, stood at attention and shouted: "Sir! From the time that you offered such wonderful advice to a fellow in need, sir!"

Jushiro shook his head, instinctively sensing the squabble that was sure to ensue. "From the beginning, eh?" He glanced back to the officers, ignoring the fact that Kiyone was biting Sentaro's arm in an attempt to free herself from a headlock. "What did you _really _come here for?"

Kiyone, having left a trail of saliva on her partner's arm, bowed deeply to her captain and, like the man, shouted: "Captain Ukitake! By order of Captain-Commander Yamamoto, we came to inform you that the situation has escalated significantly! It is my deepest regret to inform you that Captain Unohana has not yet been found, and that, as of o' twelve-hundred this morning, the Senkaimon was opened without authorization by Captain Kurotsuchi, who has also disappeared!"

"Everyone's insane," the captain muttered, shaking his head as he stood, ignoring Rukia's questioning gaze. "Inform the Captain-Commander that I will personally see to it that both captains are returned to the Soul Society, effective immediately."

**# - # - #**

Her eyes opened, a hand instantly shooting up to block out the sunlight that streamed through the window. She hated how he would wake up before the crack of dawn each day, yanking open the curtains to let the light in. Sometimes, she thought he did it on purpose. Eyes closed, she rolled onto her side, hand falling flat on the empty space where his body should have been. It was cold by now, making her cringe as she slipped her arm back beneath the covers, reveling in the warmth that was still present. Retsu smiled, hand cranking up the dial that was connected to one of the blankets. Despite his protests, complaining that it got to hot as spring was coming, she had thrown the electric blanket between the sheets and the comforter, as he didn't stay in bed long enough to keep her warm.

The birds, perched in their nests outside one of the windows, chirped their morning songs as she slipped back into the warms, signaling to the world that the day had arrived at last. Outside, she could hear the sounds of the neighbors waking up as engines started up, doors closed, and garbage cans were dragged to the curb. Not quite as pleasant as the singing, but they were still a part of her routine each morning. Retsu opened her eyes once again, noting that the door was open, and that the faint sounds of mechanical humming and clicking keys were present from down the hall. She wanted to go in and tease him a bit, as she tried to do each morning, but the pressing urge to shower had gotten the best of her.

She yanked aside the covers, quickly darting into the bathroom and closing the door, eager to sink into the hot water. Her arm stretched into the tub, hand closing on the faucet so as to start the comforting stream. Upon undressing, she climbed inside, allowing the water to come up well over her waist before turning on the shower. Hands ran through her dark hair, being sure to wash every last strand before so much as thinking about rinsing. Having heard the sound of a closing door, that of his precious study, Retsu stuck her sud-covered head through the curtain, the sound of him searching the closet bringing a smile to her face. Hurriedly, she washed the suds away, shutting off the water and wrapping herself in a towel as the drain gurgled. She gathered up her nightclothes and unlocked the door, stepping out into the cold room in time to catch him watching her with abnormally quiet eyes.

The smile on her face had easily betrayed her intentions, as he shook his head, returning to fastening the buttons on his shirt. It was obvious that he was trying to ignore her, as he kept glancing back to see if she was watching. Patience had never been his strong point, and it easily showed what with the uneasy way he kept looking at her. Feet gliding across the floor, she slipped into the closet, pulling down a brightly-colored item that she thought would do his fairly dark attire some good. Retsu waited until he had busied himself with shoving things in his pockets before crossing the room, throwing the tie around his neck, purposely messing up the neat white collar.

The scowl on his face, as she pressed her wet hair against his chest, nearly drenching the shirt, was both menacing and laughable. Despite her best efforts to contain it, she laughed lightly, earning a raised eyebrow in response. As of late, he'd been distant, having said little in the days that passed. All that seemed to matter was the research that he clung to, almost as if it were some form of life-support. He was insensitive, and she had a habit of contemplating just what, if anything, had drawn her to him. What with so much of her memory gone, she had decided, during the rare and tender moments, that that had been it. An assumption was far better than nothing at all, but it was still just that.

It wasn't disappointing, being denied. There was all the time in the world, and the sun never stopped rising. She reconciled herself to drying off and slipping into an appropriate blouse and skirt before wandering out into the hall to find out what the sudden shouting was about. Peering around the corner, Retsu furrowed her brow, surprised to see a grinning blond man in dressed all in green standing quite smugly at the door.

"Oh, come now!" she heard him say, grinning as he whipped a white fan out of his sleeve. "You're being far too sensitive about all this. It's just a simple question."

In response to the man's constant pestering, Mayuri spat a few vulgar curses before slamming the door on him, ignoring the jeering laughter that came from behind the glass. The two clearly had some kind of relation, probably somewhere along the lines of being old business partners, as Retsu didn't believe the two could possibly be related, and Mayuri wasn't enjoying it in the slightest. Stepping to the door, she glanced out the window, noting that the man had vanished. Turning, she could almost see the holes Mayuri had burned into the carpet with his gaze, hunched over in the chair, bitter. She had no idea if he even realized it, but she rather enjoyed these moments. The ones where he was at a loss, and she was the only person in the world who knew how to repair the damages. For being so brilliant, he sure missed a lot of the obvious.

She walked behind the chair, her movements going unnoticed by his eyes, sliding her arms around his shoulders, pulling him back. Her hands clung tightly to the soft cotton of his shirt, hair brushing against his face as she kissed him. A smile tugged at her lips, his mild curiosity having given him away. What he'd said the other day _was _true. She was distracting, which, in her mind, seemed to explain his distancing himself from her.

Even so, she highly doubted that was the whole truth.

* * *

><p>I know it's confusing, as even I was thrown off by the idea when I first came up with it. But, as I mentioned earlier, everything will make sense by the end. Updates (especially that of the latest two to three chapters) was delayed due to my ironing out the kinks in the plot.<p> 


	15. Dreams and Ideas

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 15:** Dreams and Ideas

**A/N: **I'm really trying to keep this as genuine as possible while throwing in twists. If it gets weird, please just bear with me.

* * *

><p>"Captain Unohana?" The boy's brown eyes widened slightly, a mild look of confusion spread across his youthful face as he punted the soccer ball into his goalie's chest, knocking the breath out of him. He shrugged, orange hair bouncing as he turned, the ball suddenly coming back to him. "She was here with some guy a couple months ago. They were both in my class. When I asked her about it, she just said that they were here on vacation to see how humans live. Haven't seen her since."<p>

It wasn't quite what he'd wanted to hear, but it was something to go on, at least. Thanking the boy, Jushiro placed a hand on his shoulder, offering up a sincere smile that, far too easily, hid his quiet insecurities. In turn, Ichigo gave him a quizzical stare, eyebrows raised by a hair. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting to see Jushiro for quite some time, especially in a gigai. But the way he fidgeted with the ball was signal enough that he was glad to have some contact with his friends in the Soul Society. Even if said contact wasn't with the person he wanted.

The white-haired captain turned, pulling the zipper of his coat up to his chin in an attempt to block out the early spring breeze that had picked up. He'd been getting chills lately, and he feared that one of them would trigger another fit, landing him in the hospital. As good as they were, the human doctors wouldn't be able to help him. They would come up with a diagnosis that had already been determined back home, and hand off a bottle of pills to keep him stabilized. He didn't usually mind being told to take daily medications and the like, but it would be awkward and strange if someone other than Retsu was giving the orders. And Jushiro highly doubted that he'd be able to joke with the human doctors as he did with his friend.

"Captain Ukitake."

Glancing over his shoulder, Jushiro watched as Ichigo handed the ball off to the next player in line. The captain didn't need to hear the boy's question to know what it was. The hesitant air about him explained everything. After having been cut off, even for just a few months, he wanted to know about his friends. About Renji, Hanataro, Ikkaku, Byakuya... and Rukia. _Especially_ Rukia. From the way she had spoken about him in the past, there was a spark of sorts between them, even if it was just one of innocent emotion. But, from what Jushiro could tell, it was a first for both of them, and they were quite interested in pursuing said fire to see where it would lead.

Jushiro had steadied himself, smiling, waiting for the question, only to find that it wasn't going to come. Ichigo had averted his gaze to the ground, purposefully busying himself with kicking up a clump of grass with his soccer cleats. He wanted to know, but he didn't want to ask.

The captain rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, contemplating whether or not he should say something. Were he simply reading into the situation, his words could be taken as an insult. And, if he wasn't imagining it, then he'd be doing the right thing by answering the silent question. But, as he'd recently been reminded, assumptions could bring about far more trouble than good.

"I know it's not my business," Ichigo said, lifting his eyes without moving his head, "but I'll ask anyway. What's with all you captains showing up all of a sudden? In less than two months, I've see at least three of you, and, aside from you, one's still wandering around town. What's going on?"

"_Excuse_ me?"

Jushiro was now hanging on that last sentence. Three captains, including himself, having visited Karakura within the last two weeks, and one still wandering around. Based on Ichigo's disturbed expression, the white-haired captain was sure that the boy had only recognized the the man because of the practice of announcing the names of new students. He clapped a hand on the teen's shoulder, forcing himself to smile. As Ichigo was no longer in contact with the Soul Society, there was little to no reason to share any extra information with him. It would only serve to worry him, and, what with his powers having been diminished, he would only upset himself over a situation that he couldn't control.

The captain turned, his face contorted with frustration. Tracking Retsu down had never been quite this difficult in the past. She'd always gone either to her classes, or straight home, which had made it easier for Jushiro, and, on occasion, Shunsui, to keep tabs on her. It would have been significantly easier were she not being hopelessly fooled by a deranged lunatic with a near-genius intellect. He sighed, throwing his head up to stare at the plush clouds floating by in the clear blue sky. On any other day, he would have enjoyed the beauty the world had to offer. An hour in the embrace of a grassy field, with the sun bearing down to warm him, would have been ideal on such a day such as this. But, with the tedious situation at hand, Jushiro found himself feeling contemptuous because he couldn't enjoy it.

A light tap on his shoulder, and Ichigo's wide eyes, tipped him off to the fact that something was out of place. He followed the teen's gaze, coming to rest on a rather grim-looking man whom Jushiro had explicitly told to stay out of the matter. Kenpachi stared down at him, a wide grin on his weathered face as several of Ichigo's teammates gathered around and started staring. The white-haired man shook his head in utter disbelief, silently praying that his unconscious mind was conjuring up a horrifically realistic hallucination.

"The fuck 'r you so pissed about?" the captain said, ignoring the chattering students and irritating Jushiro with his foul mouth. "This ain't some fuckin' first grade field trip to the goddamned zoo, Ukitake. Get yer ass movin'!"

Jushiro, having given Ichigo an apologetic grin, turned on his heel, glowering at the ground as Kenpachi followed, muttering aloud about what he'd do to "that traitorous bastard" once he got his hands around his damned throat.

Frankly, Jushiro didn't know what to do at his point. Now, what with Kenpachi having made an unexpected entrance, he was burdened another problem. More and more, he was beginning to feel like a pack mule trudging through some god-forsaken land in the middle of a drought. There was no water, no relief, to quench his dry throat and motivate him to perform at his best. His mind, weary from travel and thought, was starting to fizzle like a burned-out light bulb, sparks dropping to the ground as it died.

A scoff sounded from in front of him, erupting into full-blown laughter as a blaring car horn went off, catching Jushiro's attention. Unknowingly, he had crossed an intersection during a green light, only to have stopped as he weighed his options, thus irritating the drivers. He waved an apology before hurrying to the other side, glowering angrily at Kenpachi, who was now doubled over with booming laughter. Irritation and humiliation seemed to be Jushiro's closest friends today.

Amidst his companion's laughter, which made Jushiro seriously consider ditching him, the captain was fortunate enough to hear his name over the roar of traffic. He turned back, eyes wide as Ichigo darted across the crosswalk, a gray zip-up jacket thrown over his soccer jersey. The boy bent over as he heaved, hands resting on his knees as he fought to catch his breath. Looking up at Jushiro, sweat ran down his brow and across his face, leaving little spots on the concrete before fading away in the heat of the sun.

"Captain Ukitake," he choked, "I haven't seen Captain Unohana for a but I've seen Captain Kurotsuchi around a lot in the last couple of days. "

"Where? When?" the captain said with bated breath, grabbing onto Ichigo's jacket in his excitement.

The teen's eyes widened a bit as he took a step backward, Jushiro's hands falling away. "Yesterday. I had to take Karin over to her friend's house further into the city to pick up her gym clothes, and I saw him outside when I went to the university to get something for my dad. The day before that, he was being followed by Mr. Urahara."

Jushiro slapped a hand over his face. From the beginning, he should have had half a mind to pay Kisuke a visit. The idea that he hadn't thought of it was degrading. His mind had so easily been clouded by emotion. It seemed that he was making a habit of that, running into situations without calmly assessing the possibilities in full.

"If that's where the bastard is," Kenpachi huffed, grabbing Ichigo's hood, "then yer gonna take us there. Get yer ass movin' kid!"

**# - # - #**

Perhaps this genius plot had been a mistake. He'd honestly expected such an operation to be more underground, but what with people associated with the Soul Society around, namely Urahara and that damned Ichigo Kurosaki, the whole ordeal was turning into one big headache. Unfortunately, the latter would be able to physically recognize one of them, which seriously put a damper on things, as Mayuri had been forced to keep tabs on a boy he'd much rather kill for comments made in Hueco Mundo. As for Kisuke, he'd never really liked the bastard, and would be more than pleased to avoid him at all costs. Even if it meant some operations that were illegal on this side of the plane.

As for Retsu, he'd never expected her to catch on so quickly, especially given the state of affairs he'd put her in. Her intelligence, being one of the few things that posed a challenge to him, was simply maddening what with the way she had so easily gauged his reactions to the aforementioned bastard's untimely, and unwanted, visit. Another problem had thrown itself at him, in the form of this impossible, yet seemingly perfect, woman. It would be hell to be forced to backtrack again, going against the grain of everything he'd already laid out. But it was inevitable now that her suspicions seemed to have set in.

It was awkward, pulling all these strings. It wasn't at all that he wasn't used to it, as he ran his division primarily by manipulation and fear. But she had some kind of strange power over him, something that was almost enough to plant the seeds of guilt. _Almost. _In retrospect, it really made him wonder why the hell he'd bothered to care in the first place. _Not _caring was far less distracting, and there was less of a chance that one would be personally sucked into the fray and gutted for being involved. Admitting his own foolishness, even were it painfully obvious to all, was far from being a common practice. But this instance, on the other hand, was one where he'd been forced to reconcile himself to that fact.

"Impossible fellow, aren't you? And so rude, slamming a door in a person's face."

Mayuri leaned forward on the desk, head in his hands as Kisuke clambered through the window. It was likely that the man had used some kind of master key, or at least unlocked the window beforehand, to get in to further torment him. As if once wasn't enough. So far, Kisuke Urahara was written in blood at the top of Mayuri's hit-list.

"_You're _the impossible one, bothering me all the damn time," he shot back. "With you showing up whenever you please, it's a miracle I get anything done."

The blond man sulked, crouching against the wall, tapping his cane against the floor. "All this time, and you're still the most unreasonable man I've ever met," he chuckled.

The fact that his own behavior irritated Kisuke was sincerely the most welcoming thought he'd had in days. But the man still didn't have room to be talking. His unbelievable stupidity and drive to be the hero was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. Not Mayuri's actions. He'd quietly sat through it all, busying himself with much more important things than a putting an end to an unlawful experiment and revolt-in-progress. And Kisuke, being the king fool, was constantly forgetting about it.

"So... What do you do here?"

Mayuri turned to stare at the man with an incredulous look. Surely, he was screwing around. If Kisuke Urahara didn't know what his guise for this realm was, then he was more of an idiot than Mayuri had initially believed.

"Everything I usually do," he replied, hoping the shopkeeper would leave well enough alone. "It just more damned paperwork..."

Kisuke laughed, slamming his head against the wall with a loud thud. "Oh, that's right!" he chirped, eyes widening beneath the shadow of his hat. "You don't have your lackeys here to take care of all the mundane garbage, so you have to do it yourself!" He laughed again, slamming his cane on the floor. "Oh, that's rich! You're back to being a paper boy!"

Were there not a police station within ten miles of the building, Mayuri would have gladly gutted the bastard on the spot and taken him into one of the labs to be used as spare parts for the university hospital. Of course, the man's death was nothing more than a pipe dream at the moment, as Mayuri still hadn't figured out a way to off him without anybody, on this plane or the next, taking notice of the fact. Once that was sorted out, Kisuke Urahara would be wiped from existence.

"I know you probably think I'm here to nag you," Kisuke said, a serious look on his face, "but I just came to get that answer you owe me... Does_ it_ work?"

Mayuri grimaced, grinding his teeth. If the damned thing worked, he wouldn't be caught in all this mess. Everything would be secured, and he wouldn't have to hide among the humans and their useless dribble. If it _worked_, there would be no risk of everything falling to pieces and crumbling into unrecognizable dust. Mayuri sighed, rolling his eyes at the shopkeeper as he slipped out the door, intent on getting as far away from the man as physically possible. Another second with him asking questions would cause his head to melt.

"Where ya goin'?" Kisuke asked, eyes wide. "I didn't get my answer!"

"Away from you," came the reply. "You're pissing me off, and I need to think."

As the door closed behind him, Mayuri very nearly turned back at the shopkeeper's laughter:

"Admit it! You love her!"

**# - # - #**

"You don't think it's strange at all? That he never _once_ talks to you about his practice?"

Retsu smiled, laying a copy of patient notes down on the arm of the chair as she glanced across the room to see her friend watching her, eyebrows raised. Clearly, Midori had some trust issues within her own home, and had decided to project them upon Retsu's own relationship. It wasn't an appreciated move, but she would say nothing. The affairs of the Nizuma household were none of her concern, just as those of her life were no one else's business.

At first, it _had_ bothered her that Mayuri was so quiet when she asked him, numerous times, about his work. It had especially been worrisome when he'd come back with heavy bloodstains on the front of his shirt and sleeves. Stains every bit as stubborn as him. When questioned, he'd just brood in silence, avoiding her gaze if at all possible. After enough asking, he'd finally gone so far as to inform her that it was "none of your damn business," and, despite her desire to have a real answer, she'd left it at that. It wasn't submission, as he so obviously liked to believe, but the avoidance of an argument which, on his end, could get somewhat crude. She didn't like the tension that built up when one, or both, of them was angry. Whether it was some huge secret he was obligated to keep or just his own decision, she hadn't pressed the matter further.

"Retsu, if he hasn't asked you by now, then he's not going to," Midori quipped suddenly, brushing red hair out of her bright eyes as she flipped through a book of classical songs to be played on the piano. "With Inari, I had to drop multiple hints before he caught on and got the courage to ask me. If I hadn't, I don't think we'd have been married at all!"

The dark-haired woman laughed, earning a sharp gaze from her friend. "I'm not worried in the slightest," she replied, a light tone in her voice. "If he wants to ask me, he will. And, if not, I'll live with it. Honestly, Midori, I'm fine either way."

Green eyes widened at these words, the book falling to the floor with a very distinct flop. She darted across the room, sliding on the carpet as she lost her footing. Now, from her perch on the floor, Midori stared up at her, mouth wide open as she went on about "the importance of maintaining good communications with your partner." Being a physical therapist, as well as quite the gossip, Midori had apparently dealt with, and seen, her fair share of secrets within other people's relationships. And it seemed that she expected Retsu's to go down the tubes and clog up the drain pipes with all kinds of unpleasantries.

As her friend went on, Retsu stood and ushered her into the kitchen, all the while only half-listening to the speech she'd heard a dozen times over. In Midori's mind, the _only_ meaning of the word "commitment" was marriage. But there were other kinds of commitment as well. Commitment to oneself, health, finances, and so on. But Midori sincerely believed that, if a man cared enough about a woman, he should fulfill that last step, and propose. But Retsu didn't want him to ask _just_ so she could be married. If at all, she wanted him to ask because he _wanted_ to. As she set a kettle of water on the stove, Retsu smiled, knowing far too well that such a thing was far beyond Mayuri's comprehension. He knew what marriage was and what it entailed, but she couldn't imagine him asking such a thing. It was just too uncharacteristic for a man as cold and quiet as he.

"And that's why he _should _ask you!" Midori grinned, opening the back door to let in some fresh air. "Honestly, Retsu. You should really talk to him about it."

Retsu's smile widened as she poured the liquid into cups, laying out the various tea leaves on the counter for her friend to choose from. "Perhaps I will," she said, trying to appease the fiery woman. "But you can't go about asking him questions and coaching him on the matter, Midori. It won't work."

As the two sat out on the veranda, overlooking the gently rolling hills that led into the city, Retsu furrowed her brow slightly. Midori had mentioned discussing her feelings about their first meeting, but Retsu couldn't remember how or when she'd met Mayuri, much less when they'd moved outside the city. There were memories, yes, but many of them were faint and almost dream-like. She'd had many dreams, most of them entertaining ideas of a place on the other side of this world. A place where the city walls were white, and where the people walked about in dark garments that looked as though they had come out of history books. They carried swords as well, and some of them wore white cloaks over the dark uniforms, a black symbol and a number emblazoned upon the back. Often, she'd dream that she was one of these people, that she was in command of what was called a "division." The people who followed her would refer to her as "captain," and she would treat patients and administer medications just as she did in this world.

Even more confusing was the fact that she'd occasionally see Mayuri's face there, stone-cold and passive as ever. But that couldn't be possible, for they were just dreams. Wonderful figments conjured up by her subconscious mind.

"It's getting pretty close to five," Midori said suddenly, standing up. "I still have to throw something together for Inari, so I'd better go."

Retsu nodded, her thoughts suddenly forgotten as she followed her friend indoors, taking their cups to the sink. As Midori thanked her for a nice afternoon and reminded her to have "the conversation," the door opened, and Mayuri stared at the smaller of the two, a disgruntled look on his face.

"Take my advice," Midori said quickly, slapping Mayuri on the shoulder as she walked swiftly out the door to avoid him. "_Ask her_."

The instant the feisty red-head was gone, he turned to Retsu, confusion evident in the air. "What the hell was _that_?"

Retsu smiled, hiding the laughter as she shrugged. "I have no idea."


	16. Incentive

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 16:** Initiative

**A/N: **Some of the content in the fourth section is, somewhat, creepy. Not lemon, per se, but strange as hell.

* * *

><p>"How fuckin' hard can it be to find this bastard?" Kenpachi drawled with a scowl. "Ya ever see him? He doesn't exactly blend into the crowd, ya know."<p>

Ichigo rolled his eyes. It was impossible for the bloodthirsty captain to go ten feet without some kind of comment. In battle, it was one thing for a man to taunt his opponent. But in this case, hunting down the deranged in a city as big as Tokyo, it got annoying faster than he could have anticipated. Every now and again, he'd glance back, glowering at the captain rather than speaking. It seemed that Kenpachi would understand a silent warning rather than a verbal one. And, even if he was mistaken, Ichigo would keep his mouth shut, not wanting to make himself more of a spectacle. At least, if he could possibly draw more attention to himself with a nearly seven-foot-tall man skulking along behind him.

School had already started, and he was miles away. Even if he ran and took the train back home, he still wouldn't make it. Not that it would do any good if he did, as they'd been searching all night without rest. No thanks to the loudmouthed bastard.

On occasion, he'd drift off as he walked, only realizing that he'd faded when he tripped on the sidewalk or on his own feet. Each instance would earn a condescending laugh from the taller of the captains. Ukitake, on the other hand, was silent. Even his eyes, which Ichigo had seen brimming with life the day before, were faint. It was as if the lingering darkness of the early morning hours had gone about sucking the life right out of him. Given his condition, Ichigo would have expected to see weakness from the man. But not once had he ever seen the captain falter. The man had remained strong in the face of adversity, fulfilling his duties before even thinking of turning back to lick his wounds. But this, he realized, was a foreign situation; one that he could not flee from. It was deeply personal, and he could vouch as to how trying such instances were.

Ichigo sighed, throwing himself down on a nearby bench, ignoring the vulgarity that Kenpachi shot his way. He was tired, dirty, and wanted to throw himself face-first into a freshly made bed. After having suffered through hours of the captain's obvious irritability, he was used to it, thus rendering it useless to his now iron hide.

"Shove off," he muttered wearily as the captain stood over him. "I ain't one of your lackeys, okay? So you don't reserve the right to tell me shit... You wanna go boss someone around so bad, then go tackle the monsters over at the daycare. They'll listen to anyone..."

The teen turned his gaze away, not caring what the captain's response would be. If the man chose to off him right there, it would be a relief. It would save him the misery of being dragged around the city to find someone that was their problem. Frankly, he didn't give a damn about the well-being of the Soul Society, namely because he couldn't be involved even if he wanted to.

The early stages of dawn lit up the sky a minute at a time, washing relief over him. There was a scent in the air, one that predicted the tell-tale signs of rain. He liked the rain. The way it seemed to drown the world in a clean sheet, offering up a chance for things to be done right. He sighed, punching some directions into his phone before handing it over to Jushiro.

"Just hang around the university," he said with a yawn as he headed down the sidewalk. "If he's as scheduled as you claim, he'll show up again. And when you're done with my phone, just drop it off at my place. Don't worry, my dad won't ask any questions."

"But... Where are you going?" the white-haired captain inquired with a puzzled look.

Ichigo turned, pulling his hood over his head as the rain began to fall. "Home to get some sleep."

**# - # - #**

The ungodly hours of the morning had not been kind to him. And now, he was further pressured by the piercing gaze that seemed to sink into his back like a knife. From the instant he'd found the wine, as she'd hidden it for some ridiculous reason, she'd not taken her eyes off him. By nature, he didn't care for liquor. The smell was bad enough, but the taste was what had kept him away. That, and the fact that it was nearly impossible for him to hold even the slightest amount of liquor. He'd pay dearly for this in a few hours. But, despite the repercussions that would follow, this instance was an exception, as everything seemed to be closing in. He'd never done well under pressure, and didn't plan on getting used to it now. But as long as she watched, Mayuri doubted he'd be able to swallow even half the glass.

"Give it a rest," he huffed, watching the liquid swirl around in his hand. "I'm not drunk."

"I never said you were." For a moment, her eyes moved to the blood-stained shirt in her hands as she fought, using cold water as a weapon, to douse it of the rusted color. "But that doesn't mean you're not trying to get there."

Mayuri rolled his eyes, downing half the glass just to spite her. There was nothing wrong with a little indulgence. She'd never bee so uptight before. He'd been a fool to believe that she'd be more attractive if she were abrasive, as he actually fund that he preferred it when she gave those frighteningly calm orders. The woman was much more bearable that way. The reason behind her sudden change in nature was stupidly simple: She'd likely been talking to that annoying redhead again. The woman would fill Retsu's head with all kinds of strange ideas that didn't apply to him at all, let alone to the life they were living. She was never quiet when talking to Retsu, so eavesdropping had been no harder than throwing a stone across a pond.

It used to be somewhat comforting, her gaze. But she'd been so poisoned by the whole matter, both by him and her idiot friend, that the innocence had started to fade. At first, he'd thought it would be exciting to try and break her, to work at encasing her in the dark. He just never expected it to work so well. Now, when she watched him, it was like his grievances were being put on display. It wasn't guilt that pained him, but the remote idea of her growing to hate him. Surely, after all the hell he'd created, she would. He didn't want it, but he was prepared, having been encased in the shadows for far too long. Were it anyone else, he wouldn't have given a damn. But she was the only one who'd ever really looked at him.

Even without knowing how spot-on her feelings were, she knew what he did, to an extent. Violating the mangled remains of the dead in a morgue, urging them to yield up precious secrets. In this realm, she thought it to be nothing more than a gruesome profession rather than a part of his natural lifestyle. Even while remembering nothing, save what she claimed to have seen in dreams, it wasn't working. The seeds of suspicion had been planted within, and, by dwelling on them, she'd allowed them to grow.

More frustrating than her uncooperative attitude was the knowledge that the bleeding heart had been seen slinking around. An unnerving sign that the Soul Society was aware of the situation. Even with them present, they were still just a distraction to his cause, the lot of them.

The sound of breaking glass caught his attention as the red liquid dripped from his hand to the floor, falling amongst the remaining shards of the glass. Retsu shot him a disapproving gaze, shaking her head all the while.

**# - # - #**

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" A smile crept across that treacherous face, dark and lingering. "Surely you haven't come to converse with me about the day's weather. No, it's something far more serious. How are you holding up? Have my past actions been pressuring you?"

His hands trembled at the mere sound of the voice, fearful and bitter. He'd not forgotten the misery this man had put the Soul Society through. More importantly his friends. But he hadn't come here to engage in pleasantries, but answers. There were many questions plaguing him, and he was set on having them sent away. Eyes moved to glance through the bars, noting the sealing chains that had been securely shackled around the man's wrists and ankles. What with his power having been destroyed, he was about as threatening as a wet sock puppet. But that still didn't quell the younger man's lingering fear. Even here, he was sure that Aizen was capable of much.

That was why he had come.

He swallowed, the sweat on his brow threatening to expose his calmed visage as he breathed. Even with so dangerous a man imprisoned, there was still no guarantee that he wasn't involved in the latest uprising in the Seireitei. Everything about a person could be deceiving, as had been the case with Tosen. He'd learned not to let his guard down for anything. A lesson he should have had instilled into him long ago. He'd been foolish to trust anyone, even his own lieutenant, as any of them could have been on Aizen's side.

"You know something," he replied coolly, eyes narrowing slightly as he crossed his arms. "I'm not sure how, but you've managed to slip through the bars just enough to get your hands dirty." He shook his head, hands clinging to the bars in anger. "You take pleasure in driving people to the edge of insanity. You enjoy watching them squirm. You feel no remorse over what's been done. Bastard. You're _sick_."

The other smiled, that serpentine glaze making its way into his stare. "Still upset, Captain? I would have thought that you'd be over it by now. It was so long ago."

The captain grimaced, biting his lip as his hand clamped around the hilt of his blade. "You're a fool," he growled, baring his teeth. "After what you've done, you have some nerve to expect forgiveness, let alone request it. To think that you're as deluded as this... is horrifying. It only strengthens the arguments against you. Arguments that demand your immediate execution."

A light chuckle caused him to turn away, breaths labored as he struggled to control his temper. It was useless, dwelling on the past. The damage had been done, and there was no way to truly erase the pain from history's weave. It would forever linger in his mind, his heart, torturous and unrelenting. Each time he looked at her, he would see scars unnoticed by any other. A constant reminder of the misery this bastard had put her through.

"_You_," he hissed, blade drawn, "are responsible. And _you_ have something to do with the so-called evidence against Captain Unohana. Your past actions tell me as much."

He turned on his heel, swiftly leaving the darkened cavern, ignoring the words that followed him.

"It was this naiveté that betrayed you before, Captain Hitsugaya. Be very careful what you choose to believe."

**# - # - #**

"You're not telling me everything."

Of course he wasn't. She was a fool to expect that he would. If anything, Mayuri tell her that it was none of her concern before dropping the topic like a brick off the top of a building. He'd even left that morning without so much as a word after their short-lived discussion on wine. Assuming one could call two comments a discussion.

Knowing that he'd hate it, she had followed him, for there were questions she needed to have answered.

The previous night, she'd had those same visions. People in black uniforms with swords, those with white cloaks, called "captains." All the faces she'd seen were hauntingly familiar, and yet, she couldn't place where she'd seen any of them, let alone attach names. Although they were just dreams, it all felt so real, so right. It was as if she _belonged _there. Not here in this troubling world where the very ground, drenched with the blood and sins of the past, threatened to crumble beneath one's feet. It was as if there was a sheet thrown over her as she slept, somehow tearing her soul from her body, sending it into this life-like dream realm where she wanted to be.

"What the hell do you want me to say?" he hissed, dousing his hands in one of the sinks. "That I _kidnapped_ you?"

Retsu leaned against one of the unoccupied autopsy tables, turning her gaze away. She didn't appreciate the sarcasm, but it sounded about right. Like he'd let some big secret slip. Her eyes narrowed as she looked back in time to see him sifting through a bloodied mess, clearly too engrossed to give a damn about what she had to say. Despite what she'd initially thought, it wasn't quite so interesting, this practice of his. There was something dark about it that seemed to cast a wicked gleam in his eye, almost as if he _enjoyed _treading upon that which families and loved ones held dear. As if the desecration of a mangled corpse was as innocent a hobby as collecting stamps.

The strange realization that hit her was frightening. Familiar. _Sickening_. It was as if she'd dealt with this before, perhaps in some other life, working herself to the bone so as to pull him away from such twisted ambitions. There were flashes now, those penetrating eyes staring through her with every shuddering breath she took. Retsu glanced up, shocked to see that the vision was, in fact, real. He was staring at her, curious, that manic flare still present.

"What's _wrong_ with me?" she whispered, knowing damn well that he was the first, and possibly the last, person she should have been asking. "I keep seeing them. These visions."

As she stepped forward, her eyes widened, acknowledging his retreat. Not once had she seen such a thing. He was one to take the initiative, to ensure that everything operated according to his designs. Retsu grimaced, realizing, for the first time, that there was a distinct absence of latex gloves in the room. She could smell the pungent scent of iron as it wafted before her, bringing more images to her attention. Dark rooms filled almost to the ceiling with all manner of equipment; viciously destroyed remains lying about among bloodied utensils; an unending scape of insanity.

The game, the one wherein she was, believably, the marionette dancing on unknown threads, seemed to have shattered in that instant. The look on his face was feral, hands dripping blood as he shook, reminding her very much of a trapped and wounded dog she'd seen wandering a few days earlier. Retsu pressed forward, ignoring the pain in her sides as he grabbed her, demanding that she, as per usual, mind her own damn business.

"If nothing else, then tell me this," she said, stepping forward again. "Why do I get the feeling that you've done nothing but lie to me?"

Though she was frightened, Retsu didn't dare show it. Presenting weakness in the face of a predator meant certain death. And, given the dark circumstances, there seemed to be a decent chance that Mayuri would off her so as to silence her questions. They weren't even verbal anymore; she'd given up on words now, for they were rendered useless. She could see the reflection of her face in his eyes, the strength that seemed to radiate off her in powerful waves. Something about this was off. Something he hadn't wanted to happen.

She felt empowered enough to take on whatever challenge the world deemed fit to throw her way. It just so happened that this situation was the one she was meant to tackle.

This had nothing to do with passion. It was merely a profitable means of coercing him into telling her what she needed. Even if it wasn't something she wanted to hear. She didn't care what her body was longing for; her mind was in control. Determined, fueled by the incentive to burn through the web of falsehoods.

There were almost tears now, but she had dammed them off, focusing her drive. The sensation of chilled blood on her skin sent a jolt through her as hands moved across her body, encased in some foreign gentleness. Even had she wanted to enjoy the moment, she couldn't. She hated this. There was something in her that seemed to scream, alerting her to all the deception she'd been wrapped up in. Perhaps this would have been easier if she'd listen to those warnings sooner.

She was tainted now, not only by the lies, but by the sickening feeling of someone else's blood making contact with her skin. Curiosity won her over, eyes moving to one of the tables against the back wall, trembling at the gruesome sight. It was just a mass by now, what little moisture within having crusted over and dried out as nature took its course. This wasn't a game, she realized, but some deranged obsession he had with dominance. Just how many more bodies had been destroyed to such a degree, and how had he wormed his way into being the one to pull them apart?

The question echoed in her empty mind, but she didn't really want to know. Just this one was too much. She cringed, his touch almost eating away at her. Even if it had meant something before, it was just a tactic to her now, and Retsu found herself lamenting the fact that he'd so much as looked at her before. She voiced a cry of surprise as he pushed her back, teeth at her throat, her shoulders coming to rest upon the remains of the latest victim, the one whose blood now littered her pure skin. **  
><strong>

Her plan of battle had backfired, and she could only wish for an escape that would never come. Helplessness overcame her, and, even with her hands clinging, dancing across whatever she could reach so as to finish what she'd started, there was another face. One that she'd not seen before in her dreams. It was gentle with kind eyes and hair like the purest of white. His lips moved, speaking to her. But all she could do was stare, immune to the touch she was experiencing. She seemed to draw closer to this stranger, her hand moving to meet his as he spoke again, a faint hum in her ears this time. Even inaudible, it was familiar. A sound, of two syllables, that she knew she'd heard more than any other.

"_Retsu!_"

******# - # - #****  
><strong>

"Tired of searching, are we?" Kisuke laughed, head tilted to the side. "To be honest, I expected you to last much longer than a day given your... attachment to one of the captains in question."

The gleam in Jushiro's eye was not one of amusement. The man was exhausted, beaten, and broken from the toll the situation was taking on his already frail body. Kisuke leaned back, tapping on one of the screens behind him as the captain lowered himself to the tatami mat, breathing heavily. Ururu's quiet eyes appeared as she slid the screen away, nodding as he whispered something to her. The sound of swift footsteps and the crashing of falling boxes echoed in the room before she returned, moments later, with a brown bottle in her hand.

The shopkeeper thanked her, checking the label before tossing it to Jushiro. "Ignore the sticker," he said, noting the other man's wide-eyed expression. "It's just to keep the neighborhood kids from eating any of the pills when they come in here looking for candy. It's more or less the same medication you'd normally receive from Captain Unohana, just not nearly as strong. Just take two every four hours." He grinned, holding up a hand, earning nothing more than a nod from Jushiro.

His eyes moved to the front of the shop where Kenpachi stood quietly, head bowed almost as if he were praying. But such a thing was truly beyond him. If anything, the man was probably taking a nap.

"You've had contact with him," Jushiro said, clenching the bottle in his hand. "Don't deny it. You were seen following him around two days ago."

Kisuke laughed, waving his fan about in a silly fashion. "Oh, my," he chuckled, grinning. "That's embarrassing, seeing how I was trying to pester him into talking. Sadly," he sighed, snapping the fan shut, "I failed. He always was the difficult one, if you recall. Always keeping some kind of dark secret. Seems that the saying is true: 'Old habits die hard.'"

It was bothersome when people didn't laugh at his jokes, as he tried so hard to use them to lighten a dark situation. But Jushiro was far too deeply involved in the matter for any humor to shine through. Instead, Kisuke would reconcile himself to the facts so that the mess might be sorted out sooner. It was certainly what the captain, and the Soul Society, wanted. But, in truth, he'd like to toy with the probably outcomes a little more. Had he more time, perhaps he could come up with some way for everyone to be absolved of blame. That way, the cycle of bad blood would end. But with Jushiro in such a state, Kisuke doubted he would be willing to forgive anything Mayuri had done, especially with the circumstances being what they were. Not that the latter would give a damn about absolution anyway.

The captain sighed, climbing to his feet with a quiet, "I don't have time for this."

"But you just got here," Kisuke replied, playing the sad puppy card. "Can't you just hang around a bit, maybe have some tea? What with Yoruichi gone, I get pretty lonely here." He smiled lightly at Jushiro's gaze. "Sure, Jinta and Ururu are here, but they're just kids. You really don't want an adult to have fun with kids, do you?"

The man remained silent, his back now facing the shopkeeper as he headed for the door.

"Oh, you're no fun!" Kisuke chuckled. "But, since you're so set on this, I guess I'll just have to tell you."

A growl sounded from the door as Kenpachi set his sights upon the shopkeeper. "Cut the crap, ya bastard," he snapped. "Either ya tell us, or somethin' gets broken."

"Yes, yes!" the blond man replied, suddenly very fearful over the state his shop could end up in. "Just one question: Did you happen to come all the way here from the city?"

Jushiro nodded, a questioning look in his eye as he sighed, "We came back here for nothing, didn't we?"

Kisuke hung his head slightly. He'd seen the two captains the previous day, dragging Ichigo along, mostly Kenpachi's doing. Being the joker he was, Kisuke had said nothing, even after having correctly assumed that they were heading into the city for a vain search. He shook his head, grin returning to his face as he rubbed his chin.

"Not so!" he crowed. "By coming, you did distance yourself from the target, _but _you'll be going back while knowing exactly where he is. Troublesome, yes. But also quite a nice hand of cards, no?" His eyes shifted between the two captains, suddenly feeling very pressured. "Even better," he said, crossing to the door, "I'll take you there. Straight to the university, as I've some unfinished harassment... er, business to attend to."

****# - # - #**  
><strong>

There was a crash, the kind that stopped one's heart for no more than an instant. But that was all the time needed for her to scream.

It was blurred, a miserable pain making itself known. There were voices, faint and growing further away as the seconds ticked by like hours. It was like some horrid twist of fate, or perhaps karma, as the humans called it. Everything seemed to slow down, causing every breath to feel strangled and shallow. Her words, even as they reached him through a mass of ungodly noise, were crisp and clear. The shock of his head hitting the floor was nothing in comparison to the fear and hatred in her eyes.

He should have seen this coming. He'd moved too quickly with his scheme, and now it was all falling apart, driving her away. Now, the bleeding heart and the barbarian had found him, and were intent on "setting things straight," as it were. More and more, they were all starting to sound like Tosen, preaching on about justice and the path of least bloodshed. But he knew the truth. Without bloodshed, there was no progress, no greater heights for one to aspire to.

Retsu was crying now, clinging to Jushiro's arm, pleading. Even with Zaraki's growling in his ear, Mayuri managed a grin. She was still confused and vulnerable.

It seemed that he hadn't exhausted the deck just yet.


	17. Bittersweet

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 17:** Bittersweet

**A/N: **Some questions have arisen about the past chapters, so I'll sum it all up at the note at the end of this one.

* * *

><p>"I've never seen you before in my life."<p>

Her words struck home, snapping a cord of his heart in two. She was still delusional, if nothing else. Kisuke had given her some dosage that he claimed would tear the clouds from her mind. But it seemed to be taking longer that he'd expected. She was still entranced by the demons and flames of the netherworld, unable, maybe even unwilling, to relinquish her grip. He'd seen the tears she had shed when they were found, smears of unholy blood upon her face. At that, he'd been furious, having seen her in such a state of weakness after all she'd been through. But at this, watching her eyes linger on the door, Jushiro wasn't nearly as pleased as he thought he'd be.

Retsu had found her way out of the lies, and still she clung to the source.

Were she herself, Jushiro would have attempted to reason with her. But with the situation being what it was, words were useless.

He leaned against the wall, quietly gauging her every reaction. Her breathing was calm and tempered, eyes quiet as she remained still. There had been no sign of discomfort for what felt like the longest time. No movement to remove the stains from her face, the ones he wanted so badly to wash away. It was as if she were content with the way things were, almost as if she were having second thoughts about pulling herself away. Jushiro lowered his head. Were she to go backwards, what could he do? She didn't remember him, she didn't remember anything yet, so there would be no use in trying to coerce her by means of memories. They were sealed away, or perhaps lost, but Retsu didn't seem to be the least bit bothered by it.

She was solely focused on the fact that she'd been lied to.

"Do you want to talk about this?"

Retsu shook her head, avoiding his gaze. He should have just kept his mouth shut, but his conscience wouldn't allow it. Were he to let her walk the path alone, there would be no absolution for him, either. But he didn't want that. He wanted her to return to the way she'd been before. The purest of souls, radiating light through all the darkness, caring for everything and everyone. But that had been her mistake. She'd allowed that pure heart to reach out to the devil, and she'd been ensnared by the alluring enigma that surrounded him.

It was as if he could see the prints marking her skin. They seemed to stand out to him, like a fire in the brush, threatening to consume her. They were close to doing so, and it bothered him immensely. He wanted to blame himself for not stopping her, but he'd been down that road before. When he'd found out, Retsu had told him that there was nothing to worry about. That she had everything under control. He'd believed her, and he still wanted to, but the situation was seriously shaking his faith.

All power, all chance of reasoning, had been wrenched from his grasp, leaving him alone to watch as another spectator in the crowd.

Jushiro hung his head and sighed as she moved to the door, slipping out before he could so much as move a finger. A dark chortle sounded from the corner, and he grimaced at his comrade, disgusted that he could laugh at such a thing.

The man's eyes settled on him, grinning. "That went fuckin' well."

**# - # - #**

He was being eaten away from the inside.

It was overwhelming, the guilt, the knowledge, of the sin he'd committed. He'd allowed himself to be controlled, helping to create a plan that would only cause pain. And now, even more people were suffering because of him.

He was sinking, it seemed. It had been an order from a higher-ranking officer, but that changed nothing. Now, he was just a cohort involved in a deadly scheme that would cost the Soul Society dearly. They had already lost much in the war. Three powerful captains, and the aid of the Ryoka boy who had saved them all. And yet, he'd gone and done this, tugging fiercely at the strings that now held everything together. There was still much repair to be done, but he'd not thought about that even once as he acted. It had all been for selfish reasons, these things he'd done. He'd wanted to make a difference, to further sustain order in this maddening world, but he'd only ended up doing more harm than good.

It was disgusting, his reflection. He didn't see himself, but a beast, masquerading in the flesh of a man. Bloodshot eyes stared back at him, worry and regret carved deeply into his face. It was nearly enough to make him vomit. It would take far more than apologies to make this right again. More than anything, he wanted to make this right, but he couldn't find the courage to speak.

He was damaged, his resolve having been shattered by the events of the war, leaving him in ruin.

**# - # - #****  
><strong>

"You know, it would be in your best interest to answer my questions."

Even if that were true, the incrimination would still hang over his head. Absolution was impossible in comparison to the crimes committed. But Mayuri didn't care. He'd been in trouble plenty of times, and had always managed to work his way out of it. Of course, that had been before the new members of Central 46 had been selected, but what could they do to him that Yamamoto couldn't? The lot of them hadn't been selected based on mental prowess and ability, but because of their standing as nobles. And their useless positions as figureheads alone wasn't nearly enough to break him.

As much as he hated the man, Mayuri was much more at ease being chided by him than by Retsu. He imagined that, were she present, she'd find some way to make him crack the way she had before. Or, at the very least, she'd find something with which to stab him. Under normal circumstances, the idea didn't bother him at all. But, having seen her angry before, he wasn't exactly interested in pushing any more of her buttons. Only minutes before, she'd been so close to breaking him like that damned glass, almost guilting him into talking. He was damned lucky that the sniveling fool and his stupid backup had intervened.

It wouldn't do if she thought she could manipulate him so easily.

"They're gonna drag you out of here," Kisuke said, a strangely serious look on his face. "And when they do, you'll be brought before Central 46. And, knowing firsthand how strict they are, you'll likely be convicted like Aizen. Actually, Retsu will undoubtedly be charged with murder, and you'll end up back in the Nest, _if_ you're lucky."

Prison was the least of his worries. He'd survived it once, and it hadn't been nearly as bad as it was described. Quiet, desolate, and free from distraction. An ideal place when one's mind worked itself into overdrive as his did. The only thing that nagged him was the unwillingness of the judicial fools to look at evidence. If it couldn't solidly prove the defense, they wouldn't so much as look at it. That was why he'd tortured himself over this for so long. Reputation, even one as flawless as Retsu's, didn't mean squat to the lot of old fools, as it wasn't "enough to prove one's innocence." Having been before the council many times, he'd easily memorized their entire process, tiring as it was.

The only chance she had was to obtain solid proof.

But it was mind-numbing, knowing that he actually gave a damn. He'd never cared about anything quite so much as this, and it bothered him to no end. Why she'd suddenly become so important was a shock. It couldn't be something so simple as _feelings_. In his lengthy experience, such things were shallow and meaningless, only serving their purpose as a knife in the back. Mayuri had thought himself rid of such sentimental attachments years ago, only to have this woman waltz in and undo everything.

He grimaced, face in his hands. It was like she was there beside him, twisting the cruel piece of steel that had found its way into his chest. She was searching, digging for something, anything, that would allow her to believe that he wasn't a heartless wretch.

"Oh, dear..."

The captain grimaced, looking up in time to see Retsu step into the room. He'd never once been even mildly wary of her, but the way her eyes lingered on him was disconcerting. He grit his teeth, turning away, ignoring the shocked expression upon Kisuke's face as he slipped away, mouthing "you're dead" as he went. Now he was trapped, and she was infuriated. Her usually serene eyes were like daggers, seeking out her target. But he wouldn't fight her so as to avoid reconciliation.

It was just a mild sting, the force of her hand across his face. He growled as she turned him to look at her, the fury in her gaze having subsided.

"I don't know how," she said, "but I've seen it. You're miserable."

Mayuri rolled his eyes. He didn't _need _her pity, much less want it. "_Was _is the correct tense. And I got over it."

She shook her head, fingers grazing his cheek as she knelt down. "I don't think you did. Even with this gap, without knowing half of you know about me, I can still see it when I look at you: You're _still _miserable.

**# - # - #**

The way this man looked at him was disconcerting. She didn't like it. That cold glaze held in such strong eyes. It made her feel as though she were the one being lectured. She stood behind the one in question, peering around his shoulder every now and again so as to assess the situation. His father's eyes didn't even linger on her, much less move. He was clearly focused, displeased by something that her companion had done.

"I understand you've gone against our agreement," the man said, tone leveled with ice. "And yet you dare to bring one of _them_ with you."

This time, his eyes shifted, resting upon her with a flame that she hadn't seen in quite some time. Were this glare coming from her own father, Nemu would have endured it in silence, for she had long-since grown used to such things. But having it come from a stranger was terrifying. She felt her hand grab the back of the his shirt, hiding her face behind him in fear. She was being incriminated for something she knew nothing about. Some contract he'd violated that, somehow, had something to do with her.

Even after so long, she wouldn't at all deny that she felt something towards this boy. He was the embodiment of everything she wanted to be. There was a strength in those eyes, a purity, that she could not quite find within herself. In a way, she was almost jealous.

"You left it up to me," he replied coolly, "and I've made my choice. If you're going to give me yet another ultimatum, then do it. You already know who I'll choose."

Her eyes widened at this. Clearly they were discussing his Quincy powers, but he'd said "who" rather than "what." If he meant _her_... Nemu hoped she wasn't just reading into things. She'd never done so before, so she was unsure as to how one was supposed to identify such a thing. But everything, all the arrows, pointed straight at her. She glanced up to see him turning his back on his father. He didn't speak as he took her by the hand, quietly leading her out of the office and into the hallway. He was trembling by the time the door closed, his eyes squeezed shut. Whether it was anger or fear, she didn't know. She'd had little experience identifying the latter, as her father was the high-strung, temperamental type.

But his eyes, when he opened them, conveyed worry. They were strong with his resolve, but he was still curious as to whether or not he'd made the right choice. She took this to be her fault. Had she not come with him, he would have been able to speak freely without fear of hurting her.

Still clasping his hand, she led him through the hallways, back the way they had come. It would do him some good to get away, to breathe the outside air after such a tense moment. In the silence of the corridor, their footsteps echoed through the seemingly perpetual dimension, almost as if they were being left alone. It would be nice to be alone with him for an extended period of time. He was a wonderful influence, dispelling all the shadows that had made their way into her mind over the years. Still, it was a bit strange given the gap between them. But, when she thought about it enough, it was evident that they were in, approximately, the same age group, as Soul Reapers aged far more slowly than the humans.

That sole fact made her feel better.

The sky seemed to just rip open a hole in the ceiling, the lights paling in comparison to the bright sun. She turned to him, noting that the strain had vanished entirely, leaving a seemingly peaceful expression on his face. Even without a blessing, as the humans called it, she wanted to be with him. He made her happy, and she didn't want such a wonderful feeling to end. Still, there was the issue that he had with her father, and vice versa. The two clashed like water and oil, an impossible connection by any means. The fact that her father had rescued Uryu in Hueco Mundo seemed to have barely made a dent in his hatred.

"I'll help you find him," he said suddenly. "I don't want to, but I will."

He'd read her thoughts, or, at the very least, the anxiety upon her face. She'd requested to come to this world so as to aid in the investigation, knowing full-well that her father was somehow tied to Captain Unohana's disappearance. The very idea of his being innocent in the matter was simply incomprehensible.

She nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. "Thank you."

**# - # - #**

Retsu, despite her kind heart, didn't know if there was any room left for forgiveness. She'd suffered immensely, virtually a prisoner in her own body. Not knowing a thing about the past was like a nightmare, fearing that some dark secret had been hidden away. And, in fact, that had been the case. The salve she'd been given was finally having the desired affect, the dam breaking free and sending a massive flood through her. It was like some strange revelation, watching as it all came to light before her eyes.

She remembered everything. Her life as a captain in the Court Guards, her friends and family, patients and practice. It was a whirlwind of emotions that struck her now. Everything on the spectrum, between insane shock and maddening hatred. All sense in her insisted that she leave and never look back. But there was still something missing.

A reason.

Mayuri wasn't the kind of man to act solely upon impulse. Everything had a purpose, a myriad of minute ties pulling everything together. Even if it didn't make sense to her or anyone else, his methods were perfectly planned out. And that was what worried her. There was still something being hidden from her. For now, that seemed to be the only thing weighing her down. Finding that secret would be her sole motive for staying.

But this, the intimacy they'd started weeks before, was giving her second thoughts. The way he watched her, silent and unmoving, was almost like a nonverbal apology. An easier, albeit still humiliating way for Mayuri to humble himself. At the very least, there seemed to be some inkling of remorse.

That, too, was reason enough for her to wait. She would assess the situation up close, and then decide whether or not to break away.

* * *

><p>As of the end of chapter 12, Retsu's memories of her life in the Soul Society are gone. Due to the death of the child at the beginning of that chapter Central 46, being a lot of fools, is under the impression that she's broken the law that states: "A Soul Reaper shall not kill any human they have not been ordered to kill." Mayuri, having decided that he <em>does <em>give a flying fuck, is responsible for erasing her memories and has, essentially, kidnapped her and gone AWOL, thus breaking more laws. Retsu had doubts, Mayuri didn't confirm nor deny any of her accusations, and now Jushiro, Kenpachi, and Kisuke have inserted themselves into the situation after a two-month search.

Also, no questions about the second section will be answered at this time.


	18. Heartless

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 18:** Heartless

**A/N: **Heavy-duty masochism ahead.

* * *

><p>Green eyes, half-closed in the morning light, stared up at the structure, awe washing over her like a cool rain. If her father was anywhere, this place would be it. He was drawn to his practice like a moth to a flame, and she had doubts that, even while in hiding, he'd be able to resist the allure.<p>

"I hate this place."

She turned to Uryu, a hardened expression upon his face as he glowered at the sign. It seemed safe to assume that he'd spent much of his time in this place, the university hospital, in the past, but she couldn't be sure. He'd told her very little about his family life, having been much more open about the relationships with his friends and the goings-on of his daily life. Not once had he made mention of his mother, nor spoken highly of his father. In that way, it seemed, they were similar. Both were bound to a life they didn't want, but neither of them had the wings needed to fly into the sun. A quiet sigh escaped her, drawing his steely gaze. Nemu very much wanted to understand him, but it was frightening to even consider asking.

"Come with me," he said, taking her by the hand again.

They pushed through two sets of glass doors, coming to a halt in a large hallway with tiled floors and bright walls. The woman who sat at the reception desk glanced up at them, smiling and offering a wave that indicated she knew Nemu's companion well. He waved back before leading her quickly down a long hallway, glimpsing at the signs plastered to the walls. As they passed by, Nemu caught a glance of the maps of the building. They were complex and littered with instructions, showing even the most minute details of the floor, down to the last window. He must have come her often, she decided, as he seemed to know the place in and out.

Several closed doors along the next corridor were opened and shut as Uryu poked his head inside each one, earning pleasantries and greetings from several doctors who were inspecting patient records or doing lab work. As far as her father's tendencies went, Nemu highly doubted he'd be in such a place, regardless of the work one could accomplish here. He seemed to prefer a much darker environment, as many of the labs he frequented in the division had been constructed below ground. He'd even once made mention that he preferred a "sunless sky." It may have been one of the greatest hospitals and research centers in the country, but her doubts were growing with each consecutive door.

"Up or down?" Uryu asked, stopping in front of the elevator.

Her eyes scanned the sign to the left of the machine, realizing that there was yet another sector beneath their feet. In answer to his question, she pushed the "down" button, watching as the metal doors slid open with a gentle hiss. She had never been in an elevator before, so she was somewhat fearful, allowing her fingers to curl themselves tightly around his own, her free hand clutching his shirt as she leaned against his solid frame.

The sudden drop, as he selected the basement level, caused her eyes to widen, her grip on him tightening. Uryu laughed, probably assuming she was holding on to humor him, but made no movement to peel her away. He seemed content with this, the level on which they'd connected, and had only mildly mentioned pursuing it further. She would very much like that. The only big fear, at least on her end, was how her father would react to such a thing. He hated this boy, one of the two remaining Quncies, and the only one to have driven him to a humiliating defeat. But, for some reason, it made her even more attracted to him. He could teach her how to be strong, even in the grim face of adversity.

These thoughts were swept away by the ding of the elevator bell and the light gasp of the doors. It was dark down here, dull lights set close to the ceiling every few feet or so. The room in which they'd arrived was devoid of inhabitants, tall shelves of texts and files lining the walls while tables and chairs occupied the floor. A place dedicated entirely to discussion and notation, she decided, allowing Uryu to lead her into the hallway. Again, there was little light, making her think of some dark dungeon, the likes of which she'd only read about in novels.

Again, he doubts began to surface, eyes falling upon yet more empty rooms. Nemu tugged lightly on Uryu's sleeve, a silent indication that she'd made up her mind to stop looking. But he maintained his hold on her hand, wrenching open yet another door. He let go of her, hands scanning the walls for a light switch as she crept into the darkness. There was a pull, something within her that insisted she move forward. There was no thought as she knelt on the floor, feeling her way around the tables of dessicated corpses.

As she moved, her hands leading the way, she felt something lukewarm graze her fingertips. Even in the dark, she could name it based upon its shape alone. The object, which she had identified as a scalpel, seeing how they were in a morgue, was warm and laced with blood. Eyes were squeezed shut as the dim lights made themselves known, casting an eerie glow across the walls. Nemu glanced up, mouth agape.

He was there on the floor, staring at her with silence in his piercing eyes as he struggled through each breath. She gasped, her own looking down and following the bloodied trail and shimmering tools to a deep gash that had been cut into his chest. Tears threatened to manifest as her fingers began pressing themselves into the wound so as to cease the bleeding.

There was no reason for her to be surprised. Over the years, he'd made a habit of using himself as an test subject, using all manner of drugs and performing unethical experiments that would make a sane man ill. But she was shell-shocked at this, a bloody reunion after several weeks of him being gone. Now, it wasn't just another test. It was a serious, and emotional, attempt at relieving some kind of pressure.

"Damn," she heard him say, barely above a whisper. "She's not coming back..."

Nemu stared incredulously at him, turning back to find that Uryu was as stunned as she felt. She looked back, the realization having dawned upon her; his motives having been made clear. She leaned forward, putting down more pressure as she instructed her Quincy companion to find a medic.

But, noting the blank look in her father's eyes, she knew he didn't feel a damned thing.

**# - # - #**

"You remember... everything?"

The way he looked at her was questioning. As if he didn't really believe that she was capable of making her own decisions after being released from the delirium. Contempt laced her own gaze, she nodded, quiet vindication bubbling beneath the surface. But it wasn't his fault. Retsu knew who to be angry at, but she was still debating that within herself as well. She wouldn't admit it, but Jushiro's assumptions had been dead-on. The allure of having something so precious had gone to her head, sending her tumbling down the slippery slope.

And now, she'd landed on a bed of pins and needles.

She felt used, as though Mayuri had conducted some wicked experiment on her. And that was likely what had happened. He'd probably resented her for dragging him away from his work, and had decided to toy with her emotions so as to entertain himself. And she, having been sucked in by the "change" in his nature, had fallen for every moment of it. Delusion had taken her over, twisting itself within her until she'd believed all the emotion and passion to be real. Like his existence, she wanted to deny it all and burn it to naught but ash. But it all flooded back, taking on the persona of a quiet voice inside her head, insisting that she'd felt it _because _it had meant something.

There was glass beneath her skin now, unrelenting, forcing her to bleed.

Jushiro's hand, warm in comparison to her own cold skin, rested upon her cheek, wiping away the tears she hadn't noticed. He was hurting with her, she realized, for he'd given in to the fact that she'd turned to love that which had turned from light. A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, warming her heart.

"You can't go back," he sighed, hand falling away. "You've been branded a traitor."

Retsu's narrowed her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. Were it not for Mayuri, she would have returned to the Soul Society on time and without question. They couldn't name her traitor for that. She leaned forward, staring deeply into his face, voice firm as she asked, "What does that mean?"

The captain leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together beneath his chin. "Retsu, I am on your side, believe me," he said, "but..."

She took his wrists in her hands, ignoring the chill that ran through her from the breeze of the open window. "_Tell me._"

"You've been accused of murder."

The words were so plain in their meaning, even as they left his body with a shudder, that there was no way to misconstrue them. Her hands fell away, fingers pressed into her temples as if such a thing would be enough chase away the demons in her head. Jushiro couldn't lie worth a damn. It wasn't just an accusation; it was a conviction. She had been pronounced guilty of something that had happened by pure chance. Even had she wanted to, Retsu wouldn't have been able to stand idly by and watch a child die in pain.

That wasn't her nature.

"Retsu."

She turned, Kisuke having poked his head into the room, waving her over with a hand. Quietly she followed, Jushiro's eyes staring through her all the while. He thought he was being clever by remaining silent, but she'd seen through him long ago. It had been a simple infatuation, as was common with men in this time period. For years, he'd made himself believe that things would change, and that was why he'd taken care of her for so long. But, as time passed them by, she'd seen that childish notion die out a day at a time, slowly giving way to the more practical idea that it had just been part of some delirium.

"You've got a call."

The phone was pressed into her hand, a heavy sigh alerting the person on the other end to her presence. She listened in silence, absorbing the little bits of information with a broken mind. But the last words she heard before the call ended were enough to make her blood run cold.

**# - # - #****  
><strong>

The two of them had been whispering for the longest time, glancing back every now and again. Mayuri didn't really give a damn as to what they were being so secretive about, as they were only children to his eyes, but he felt certain that they were about to drag him into it. If it was going to be yet another fight over the girl's freedom, he'd gladly back down at the get-go. He had no interest in getting shredded again by some snot-nosed mutt from off the street.

It was foggy, the aftermath of the drugs having dulled the majority of his senses. He shouldn't have consented.

She was gone when he looked back, the Quincy scowling at him as if he were something so pathetic as a dying cat. The boy was about as screwed up as he was, what with that light dancing in his eyes. He felt that burn in his side, the brat's hands clamped down on the collar of his shirt. It was entertaining, watching the uncertainty pooling in the little bastard's vision, mouth opening and closing as he struggled to piece together what the hell he wanted to say.

As he could instill guilt into Mayuri with his self-righteous Quincy wisdom.

"I want to be with her."

Mayuri's eyes widened, staring incredulously at the boy. He glanced over his shoulder, making note of the way Nemu's eyes hung on him. The timidness that had lingered for so long was now gone, iron and willpower having corrupted her. He'd screwed up, leaving her alone to head the division. He should have _known _that she'd come looking for him and run into the Quincy. She knew what she wanted, and was prepared to fight him for it. A nuisance, albeit an interesting one.

The captain shrugged as best he could. "The hell do you want me to do about it? _Stop you_?"

**# - # - #**

When Retsu had arrived, everything in her field of vision had been black for an instant. The lighting in this sector was horrid for that of a hospital, even a morgue. But she was surprised that she hadn't noticed this the day before, when she'd been alerted to the deception that had been swept over her eyes. Medical staff was lingering in the hallway, talking in hushed tones that she couldn't understand. She wanted to believe that this was a joke Kisuke, and maybe Jushiro, had concocted to lighten her mood, but everything seemed so legitimate. Far too believable for her to question.

The rooms, as she passed, were all familiar. She'd been in each of them at least once when she'd believed her life to be that perfect dream. Her eyes pulled themselves away from one of the darkened holes in the wall, her mind trying to cleanse itself of the events that had taken place therein. Just down the hall, there was a woman in white, a red medic's emblem emblazoned upon her left shoulder as she lingered quietly at a cart, peeling gloves away from her hands. She looked grim, to say the least, further convincing Retsu that this was all real. Her face was quiet, dark even in comparison to the horrid lighting.

She seemed to recognize Retsu thanks to her frequent visits, and whispered something to her that seemed to shine a spotlight upon them. The captain nodded in response to one of the questions, constantly reminding herself to breathe deeply.

The woman laughed, a half-smile on her face. "Pain in the ass, that one," she said, shaking her head. "Won't consent to a damned thing. Not even the mildest form of treatment. Think you can manage that?"

Retsu nodded, wishing that she hadn't. She didn't want to deal with this kind of thing anymore. This unrelenting, and toxic, case of insanity. That, and her own stupid mistakes, had gotten her into this mess. It was like a hook, buried deep within her skin. Tearing, biting, drawing blood with even the slightest of movements that implied a desire to escape. She paused as the woman walked away, a gentle "good luck" filling the space between them. Coming back here was like saying she was addicted to the dark chills that filled her.

Her brows furrowed slightly, movement having caught her eye. To the right, sitting together against the wall, Nemu was clinging to the Quincy boy, her fingers stained with that familiar incarnadine color. The girl's head was buried in his shoulder, quiet sobs rocking her body as he sought to comfort her. Retsu was frozen now, accepting the fact that this was not a trick, but a very serious situation. As if having sensed her presence, Nemu looked up as she stood, her eyes red from crying, walking quietly to Retsu's side. By now, the girl was breaking down in a fit of hysteria, drawing the attention of all who were present. She was somewhat envious that this child could break down and cry this way when she'd been unable to squeeze out more than a few bitter tears.

The boy approached as well, taking Nemu into his arms, allowing her to lean on him. By now, Retsu was trembling. It was deranged, the way he did things. Never a coherent thought in his damned head. She slipped across the threshold, eyes immediately drawn to the glow that followed her movements with a dark precision.

"Damn."

She shook her head, biting her lip as the realization slapped her. He'd gone and done something stupid again; something based upon impulse. And to think that she was fool enough to believe that Mayuri thought everything through. There was that temptation, the one that insisted that she just leave him to his own devices, hanging on her shoulder again. And it was growing more promising by the second. But her "bleeding heart," as he so charmingly would have called it, kept her from backing out.

He growled at her as she gently began to pull back the bloodied cloth. Retsu was beyond furious, but even screaming didn't seem to be a proper enough way to express it. Wordlessly, she slapped his hand away, emotion draining out of her as her eyes traced the wound. From his sternum to his left side had been shredded, making her breath catch in her throat. She felt the way he should have: Numb with shock, anger, and everything in between.

"Shut up," she whispered, silencing his incriminating comments. That gleam showed up again, and Retsu wished she could burn it away. "I didn't come _for _you. I came because you're incapable of taking care of yourself."

But it didn't disappear as she'd hoped. It was brighter and crazed as ever. "Same thing."

Retsu sighed, fingers buried in an cloth soaked in alcohol. She pressed it against his handiwork, willing herself to ignore his squirming. It wasn't about her, and it wasn't about the thrill. It was about self-destructing after having been drained by the first emotional experience ever to come along. She didn't like the meaning that this mutilation entailed, but it was there.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked, wondering if she really wanted an answer.

But he was silent, head resting in her lap as she worked. She sighed again, forehead pressed against his.

She hadn't meant to, but she'd left her mark.

* * *

><p>It's a morgue. So, autopsy tools are the key. Many thanks to my growing interest in the field of medicine. It was a thrill-of-the-moment idea. Also, I'll be gone for a few days, so no 19 until next week. Probably after Monday.<p> 


	19. Circle

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 19:** Circle

* * *

><p>"You promised not to bring it up again."<p>

Jushiro knew what he had promised weeks earlier, but he was, once again, backpedaling. It was maddening, trying to understand the way she thought, as Retsu was constantly changing her mind with each incident. There was a thread wrapped tightly around her hands, and a hook down her throat, cruel and unrelenting. But Jushiro was no fool. He'd seen the shift, not only in her, but the puppet master. One minute, it was a game, and the next, it meant "something."

Madness if he'd ever seen it.

"I know."

His head was bowed slightly, giving the false impression of guilt. It was wrong to allow her to think that he felt bad about what he'd done by interfering, but Jushiro wasn't remorseful in the least. Just one scheme after another, each one more extreme than the last, was what had sent her crawling back through the rubble in the aftermath, believing she was the cause of the damage.

It was a sad thing, seeing her in such a miserable state.

Her words were just a buzz in his head now, his green eyes settling upon her. She was certainly angry, toning it down to a low whisper so as to avoid making a scene and disturbing the rest of the patients in the emergency room. Nurses darted every which way, medicating and cleansing those who had been entrusted to their care. Retsu could be doing very much the same right now, had she not gone off on some fool's errand. This kind of thing was what she had lived for, thus strengthening her kind and gentle heart. She was appreciated for it, sacrificing hours of sleep and personal time so as to attend to those who had suffered or died.

It was almost enough to bring tears to his eyes, the way she was slipping away. She wasn't that person anymore. Tragically, that piece of the past was forgotten now, her focus having settled on the last case imaginable. Of all the people she could have stuck to, she had to choose the most impossible and detestable. With him, it was self-preservation above all else. There was no room in that blackened heart for the likes of her. The corruption had eaten away at her, leaving a hole.

"Jushiro." Her hand pressed itself against his face, discomfort radiating from her being. "Are you listening?"

He allowed himself a heavy sigh, ushering her out one of the back doors. The warm light of day had vanished, breaking into fading streaks across the sky. It was beautiful here, but Jushiro much preferred watching the sunset from his Ugendo quarters, the reflection rippling against the water as the koi moved to the surface to feed. He prayed that this would be settled soon, as he very much wanted to go home.

Surely, she would hate him for what he had to say, but silence wasn't doing him any good. He seated himself on the curb, waiting until she had done the same before speaking. He took her hand, staring at the ants on the ground, and said, "I still don't like it. This idea of you catering to the whims of the criminally insane..."

She widened her eyes, pressing a finger to his lips. "Don't. We discussed this," she replied, tone level. "You said you wouldn't interfere or tell me who to love. Are you a man of your word or not, Jushiro?"

White hair fell into his eyes as he hung his head again, guilt-ridden and irate at once. He _wanted _to honor his word, but concern and his damned pride were standing well in the way of that. Jushiro turned, brushing a hair out of her tired face. They were well away from any potential eavesdroppers, and had nothing to worry about so far as bothering the other patients.

"Don't you understand?" He threw his hands up, all control having gone to the dogs as his eyes pleaded with her in vain. "He bleeds, and you cry! It's a cycle! You're doing more harm than good here! If you keep this up, things will only become worse! You can't keep _deluding_ yourself into believing that you'll be able to save him! You can't! It's like trying to save the devil from damnation!"

Immediately, the captain wished he could take that last part back.

Retsu's eyes clouded over, denial having wormed its way in again. She stood, turning her back on him and heading inside without so much as a word. Again, she would go back to her captor, a victim of the powerful Stockholm syndrome. Mayuri had taken her emotions hostage, holding them over her head, manipulating every situation to the fullest. Her purity had been perforated, shredded beyond recognition.

Jushiro pressed a hand over his eyes in shame, giving himself a mental kick in the ass.

He really had to learn to keep such strong opinions to himself.

**# - # - #**

When he'd relayed the news, Nemu hadn't known what to believe. She had suspected it to be some kind of ploy to tear them apart, to even draw in and _kill _Uryu for the unbearable humiliation and trouble he'd caused time and again. She knew, far better than anyone else, that her father wasn't the kind of man to let things go so easily. He'd hang onto them, forcing them into the background until such time as they became useful again. There was always some gear turning in his head, easily explaining the unnerving outbursts and obsessive nights without sleep.

But this, whatever it was, was just too good to be true.

"You're sure...?"

He nodded, clasping her hand, staring off the bridge with a triumphant smile on his face. Somehow, he'd played his cards right, having earned the place that the two of them had yearned for. But there was always the chance that he'd done nothing. That it had just been a way for her father to get his Quincy nemesis out of his face; that he'd simply said the right thing at the right time. All were valid possibilities, each having different points of merit.

But there was one thing that had been nagging at her. Even when Uryu had brought it up, she'd seen the way her father had watched her. He hadn't paid the Quincy any mind, even with trembling hands clinging to his shirt. It had been swift, his response, and that was what had made her question it. Had the situation been different, Nemu had little doubt that Uryu would have ended up as another subject, one far more promising than any of the other Quncies that had been studied.

"My mother died in that place."

She turned, dumbfounded by his statement. His eyes lingered on the swirling water below them, leaning into the railing with a sigh. The glee was gone, masked over with a strange reluctance. He must have trusted her, or she doubted he'd be sharing such a private and sentimental thing. It was a wonderful feeling, being close enough to him to be worthy to receive such a clouded secret.

"I avoid it as often as I can," he said, facing her. "It's just too hard to walk by the rooms where she was treated, knowing that she's not waiting at the end of the hall. Maybe that's why I always wanted to be a Quincy. To save the dead."

There were tears now, though she wasn't sure just what they meant. She'd felt sorrow before, even despair, but visible signs of these emotions were entirely foreign. She'd gone her whole life without even knowing if she was capable of truly feeling. But, as of late, all those deep-seated curiosities had been pulled apart, allowing something new and wonderful to peek through.

Even if all the things she felt weren't pleasant, she'd rather have them than lose them.

**# - # - #****  
><strong>

The nurse, who had taken care of that which she had been unable to, was wide-eyed when Retsu had returned from the restroom, face flushed. After leaving Jushiro behind, she'd taken a few minutes to calm down, insisting that he was wrong about everything. She wanted, desperately, to believe that his words were just empty, blatant lies in comparison to the truth that she so dearly wanted. But that was all it was. Desire. Just because one wanted something, didn't mean that it nearly enough to make it real.

"You think I'm lying."

It was an obvious reference to his own stupid show of sincerity.

Of course, she did. He'd made a _habit _of lying to her, and about the most important things. One shameless story after another, and not a hint of guilt or regret. He'd taken away her agency, forcing falsehoods into her head for weeks. And he expected it to be gone just like that? Now, she supposed that the brutal carving had just been another lure. One more cruel way to get her to come running back. If this were so, then she'd fallen for it, making herself out to be the fool yet again.

"You _always _lie," she retorted, averting her gaze. "That's not likely to change."

If anything, _that _was the lie. Retsu was going against her own ideals, speaking like that; not daring to listen to an explanation. But that was irrelevant. He'd wanted her to notice, for whatever reason, and she had. Now, she just wanted out. When all this hell was said and done, they would return to the Soul Society, and things would proceed as if this had never happened. She'd go back to life as she'd known it, and he could do whatever he wanted to.

For hours after, she'd remained silent, contemplating the situation and failing to notice as the world outside the window grew dark and cold. There were clouds slinking across the sky now, the kind she would have seen staring off her veranda in the middle of the night, being blown into see-through streaks. The time had passed like a summer wind, sweeping away the hours and turning them to naught but dust. It would take far too long to forget all this, to turn everything around. Days, having blurred into weeks, had already fled, leaving her far behind with little hope of catching up. It was depressing, knowing that she'd wanted something real; something that could fill in the color within the lines of that which had been missing. It was an even wider gap now, one that didn't seem the least bit interested in shrinking. Worse, still, was the fact that there was no bridge with which to cross it.

She was the lone survivor of this burning village, standing on the edge that overlooked the unending crevasse.

As much as she'd wanted to believe it, there was no dream. No perfect ending like the ones that had existed in a passed childhood. Unlike now, it was all a matter of dreams at that time. A myriad of everything she'd wanted, pulled together by thoughts and imagery that only a child's pure mind could create. By no means was this a fairy tale. It was a nightmare, the likes of which she never could have conjured.

Hands took her shoulders, pulling until she was resting against his chest. Fingers wove through her hair, breaking the tie so that it fell like a river down her back. His words were naught but a whisper, as pained as she could have ever imagined.

"Fine. I lied..."

Retsu, smile forming, knew that. She'd known since her discussion with Kisuke, the one that had taken place before Jushiro had informed her of the accusations that had been bolted to her name. But it meant far more to hear the confession than to speculate and assume.

She could feel the heat seeping through her shirt, a remnant of his damned exaggeration. The cloth was peeled away with gentle fingers, her tongue running along the stitching, vanquishing the sanguine streams that had formed. At the top, closest to his shoulder, she planted a kiss, sighing as his face was buried in her hair. It was stupid, trying to run away the way she had. There were flaws, and there would be pain, but she could see that he cared.

"Shameless," she replied.

All that was left was to ensure that everybody else was fooled.


	20. Final

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 20:** Final

* * *

><p>She had promised to come back, as her permission to do so hadn't been rescinded, but he didn't seem the least bit pleased with that. He seemed distant, even standing beside her, almost as if he were lost in some faraway place that she could not reach. It was loneliness, she decided. Like her, or anyone, he didn't enjoy having something, or someone, taken away, even if it was only for a short period of time.<p>

Her words, those that had assured him she'd be going to and from the Soul Society so as to collect specimens, had done very little to lift his spirits. The way he'd looked at her, with such solemn eyes, was enough to make her believe that he was reliving that old nightmare. The one he'd spoken briefly about; the one in which his mother had been pulled to the other side.

He'd voiced concerns about her on the bridge that last night they spent together, openly wondering if her life in the Soul Society was at all better than the one she'd so easily left behind. Nemu had noted fear in him. A fear as to whether or not his own mother still knew his face.

"She remembers you," she had said, drawing imaginary lines between the stars. "She is your mother, after all. How could she forget?"

**# - # - #**

His eyes had been pleased, the happiest they'd been in so long. It was all there, accentuating his naïve belief that she'd done "the right thing." It was horrid, lying to him like this, but she didn't want to harm him further. Jushiro was a gentle man, one who didn't deal well with disappointment, despite his strength in nearly any other situation. He took other people's problems far too seriously, almost as if they were his own. A strength and weakness, desirable yet unwelcome. It was for the best, she'd decided, letting him wander in the dark. As a precaution, she had laid down a law of sorts, one that was firm in the fact that he was not to interfere in any of her personal affairs again. As he now thought her to be rid of the devil on her shoulder, he'd complied without any extra comments on the matter.

There was doubt that he'd uphold his end of the bargain if he found out about her deception, but more bothersome, still, was the way _she _had been fooled. Retsu remembered, all too vividly, watching that beautiful little boy die in the hospital, clasped tightly in his mother's trembling arms. Unknowingly, she had also absorbed the seemingly impossible shock on Mayuri's face as some message had come through. He hadn't given her time to question what had been on his mind, as he'd taken advantage of the situation and wiped her slate clean.

Now, as she sat at her desk with a stack of paperwork that needed her signature, Retsu had all the time in the world to think on it. During her absence, Isane had gone nights without sleep, and had still maintained her own duties as well as Retsu's. And, for that, she had insisted that her lieutenant take a much-needed break.

For three days, she'd avoided him entirely, hoping to prove to him that he couldn't manipulate everything on a whim. It had been just before dawn, the last night in the human world, that she'd finally been given the chance to take hold of those well-deserved answers. It would taste a lie to say that they hadn't shocked her, as he'd come up with the whole idea as nothing more than another stage of his game.

He'd falsified the reports from Central 46, bringing the entirety of the Soul Society to believe that she'd slipped somehow. She'd learned that only a handful of people had any idea that it had all been a lie, namely Akon and his team, all of whom had been coerced into participating. They'd sealed their lips, relaying the messages against their better judgment, which had shocked their captain as well, as he'd been told by Akon that the idea itself was unconventional and insane.

_That, _she supposed, explained why he'd been so on edge. He hadn't believed that they'd actually fold and give in to his maddening creation.

It also told of the obvious guilt on Akon's face when, as per usual, she'd gone to pick up medications again the following day. The man had apologized constantly, informing her that they'd rescinded the falsified order of arrest, and that Central 46 had no idea what had transpired. For that, she was grateful, but she had kindly, yet firmly, asked him not to further encourage his captain's bad habit of messing with people's heads.

The lack of memories, on the other hand, had been Mayuri's doing alone. He hadn't been able to look her in the eye when explaining that, while the whole thing had started out as a game, it had all developed into the last scenario imaginable. It had been a test of sorts, a cruel one at that, to determine how much differently she'd behave without any knowledge of her past actions.

Retsu had happily slapped him for that.

She didn't expect that he'd quit toying with people anytime soon, but she had fervently expressed the fact that she didn't want to be involved in such experiments again. But there were no sincere expectations. He'd never once responded well to orders, and there was little chance that such a thing would change anytime soon.

Now, she was counting down the hours with a smile on her face, watching as the hands on the clock eased closer to sunset.


	21. Gray

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 21:** Gray

**A/N: **Mild lemon.

* * *

><p>She never had any qualms when chewing him out before, and tonight would be no exception.<p>

Assuming she'd even show up.

It was a stretch of the imagination for him to so much as consider that she'd gotten over it. Three days of limited contact, complete with the unwanted side-order of disapproval in her eyes. He hadn't asked for it, but, at the same time, he had. Going well over her head with a game that turned out to be something far more serious. Were he anyone else, Mayuri would have kicked himself. But, being a sadist, he'd sooner distract himself with unholy actions involving his own personal brand of "self-indulgence."

A practice that Retsu, being the epitome of purity, frowned upon.

For the last three days, she'd been the only thing on his mind. The mystery that presented far more of a challenge than anything else. There had been no room for obsessive theories and maddening questions. The rest of the world just seemed to fade into the background, freezing up and losing all traces of color when she'd shown her face to collect supplies and the like. It was like some twisted reverie, a constant reminder of his own impossible stupidity.

If she had any sense, she would know that he didn't feel guilt. It wasn't part of his programming, as he'd rid himself of such a useless thing years before. It was regret and disdain for the fact that he'd been forced into a corner, relinquishing his hold upon this source of entertainment. Of course, Retsu wouldn't be fooled by such a statement. She'd cast it aside, attributing his actions to naught but feelings, or whatever useless dribble women dwelt upon.

It was insanity, watching her face flicker in and out of his mind. She was constantly distracting, tearing out any shred of coherent thought until he'd surrendered, turning to stare blandly at the ceiling. There would be no sense in denying that she had a hook down his throat, even if the attraction had been purely accidental. There would be no remedy with which to whisk time away, erasing the marks she'd so eagerly left behind. Had he not seen it himself, Mayuri wouldn't have once believed that a woman as composed as her could be turned to sin so easily.

Her anger, on the other hand, hadn't even come close to being deflected. She had been sincerely irritated, even angry, by the fact that he'd consistently lied to her. Even after having admitted it, which had been one hell of a blow to his pride, Retsu had continued to berate him for his behavior, further adding to the regret that she'd found out. Had he acted based on logic rather than impulse, she would have believed it all to be a trick of a much darker force.

"You're obsessing again."

She had appeared out of nowhere, reminiscent of the phantoms that children, such as Zaraki's classless brat, claimed to have seen in the graveyards under a full moon. Although she had been on his mind for the entirety of the day, the last three days, to be precise, Mayuri found that he wasn't the least bit interested in her, despite the nagging that had started up at the back of his skull.

"And you're irritating." Mayuri grimaced, swatting her hand away with a scoff. Time and again, she had both cursed and ignored him, only to end up with the nerve to come and further bother him in the dead of night. "Isn't there some dying wretch for you to tend to?"

This earned him a laugh as Retsu sidled up to him, gently fingering the cloth of his shirt. "That may be, but you deserved it for lying," she commented, smile still in place. "And no. Everyone's asleep. Which means that _you're _the only one who needs attention of any sort."

She was trying to be sweet, and, damned be the gods, it was actually _working_. He wasn't supposed to be pleased with her, but infuriated. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, aside from insubordination, it was being ignored. Knowing this, she'd put pressure on that powerful annoyance of his, and had maintained it for over seventy-two hours, torturing him. Now that she was standing before him, the captain found himself to be genuinely shocked. Mayuri hadn't actually expected her to come, and, having been busy with warding off his own mental rants, had forgotten to remove the paint. It only went to prove just how out of it he was.

His eyes were fastened on her now, hands unknowingly tugging at her robes. "I want it," he murmured, eyes widening at the realization of what he'd said.

There was naught but a coy smile on her lips as she raised a hand. "And you'll have it," she replied coolly, sliding a finger across his cheek, removing a smear of paint. "But _I _get to take it off."

Mayuri scowled at her, intent on warding off the betraying grin that threatened to surface. "Fine." He could feel her breath in his mouth as he leaned forward, that familiar head burning through the ice in his veins. "I'll play your damned game. But you'll regret it."

"You're nothing but trouble."

He could feel the sardonic gleam coming to life in his eyes as she slipped out of her robes, consent written in numerous tongues across her face. Soft black tresses slipped easily through his fingers, her skin glowing a dull golden color, courtesy of the oil lamp that sat alone on the desktop. She tasted sweet, the nectar of autumn fruits dancing through his mouth.

She seemed to come alive with his touch, face lighting up as her hands set to work removing his mask. Fulfillment was etched therein, his mouth dry as she kept up her tempting games, smearing the colors, opposite one another on the spectrum, across the floor. There was no doubt that, with their return, she'd start nagging him about being more open. If she were anything like Zaraki's lieutenant, he'd have to resort to hiding his personal belongings whenever she decided to linger. The last thing he needed was for her to start getting rid of his accessories.

"You hate it," was all he could manage as she stopped, eyes set intently upon the scar.

Rather than moving away as he'd thought she would, she traced it, following every dip and awkward weave in his marred flesh. A finger slipped into the stitching, pulling lightly and sending a spark through his vision. Retsu slid towards him, her lips pressing against his. There was a silent plea in her eyes, desire lacing even the most subtle of her touches. For certain, she'd corrupted him, mixing and mingling colors and elements that had no business being together. But she'd done it all the same, going against the natural order, eagerly throwing such a thing to the wind and turning them into a hapless mess.

Even with the facts laid out so neatly, her obvious consent still staring him in the face, Mayuri couldn't bring himself to make a move against her. Breaking her further would surely condemn him to hell. Him and his graying heart. A trifle in his mind, but one that she'd easily blow out of proportion, making it something else for him to question himself about. She wasn't satisfied in the slightest, he body shifting in a way that took the initiative so as to sate both lusts.

"What a thing to say," she chided with a kiss. "How could I? It's_ my_ mark."

* * *

><p>I'll be starting another KuroHana multi within the next few days. Many thanks to all my readersreviewers. I usually start out writing these things for my own personal amusement, but you guys really serve as moral support. Over the years, it's become as much for you as for me.


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